


A Punishment Undefined

by geekglassesgirl



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Angst, Begging, Blindfolds, Branding, Captive, Captivity, Chains, Cruelty, Dehumanization, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Imprisonment, Interrogation, Legal Drama, Major Original Character(s), Medical Experimentation, Minor Violence, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Original Character(s), Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Punishment, Revenge, Sexual Content, Slavery, Torture, Whipping, Wrongful Imprisonment, bound and gagged, captor, collared
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:41:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 27,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22118065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekglassesgirl/pseuds/geekglassesgirl
Summary: The punishment of a rapist is up to the father of the victim. For Dr. Nolan, this is the last way he can take care of and protect his daughter after she dies by suicide four months after her assault. By bringing her justice.Mathew, or Matt, discovers when he is given to a man whose daughter was assaulted, the same man who pushed for his conviction. At this man's mercy, and with no one else to help him he will have to endure being a prisoner and paying for actions he says he didn't commit.
Comments: 49
Kudos: 92





	1. A Punishment Undefined

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that there is mention and discussion of rape and suicide. They are not the main focus, especially past the first se an or eight chapters. But are present so do not read if these topics are overly disturbing to you.

The surgeon eyes the boy from the top of the stairs. He takes him in and simply watches for a moment. Watches his labored breathing both quicken and then slow again. The occasional tremble running down his spine causing him to flinch and pull against the bonds. 

He was in charge of the boy now. He was under his control. It only took six months and his daughter dead to get to this point of deserved revenge. 

The bastard had raped her, the doctor winced at the thought. Not being able to help but to imagine his baby girl, only 15, begging for the monster to stop. He remembers the crying and uncontrollable sobs and panic attacks that haunted his daughter each night for the four months before she committed suicide.

Because of this boy, he no longer had his daughter, it seemed only fitting that he should be the one to punish the creature. 

He once said to his late wife after bringing their daughter home, that he would kill anyone who dared to touch her. 

Well he wasn't allowed to let the boy, who was barely a man, die. But he could make him wish he had. 

The creaking of wooden steps is what sent Mathew taunt and still. 

How long had he been here? Please, oh god please... his mind begged, but to no one other then the god he spoke of and not aware of what he begs for. Mercy? Death? At this point, it wasn't clear what awaited him. 

But then the creaking of the wooden steps stopped and the footsteps seemed to approach him. Underneath the blindfold, he shut his eyes tightly. But the person standing above him wouldn't see his terrified plea. He hoped they also couldn't see his frightful panic.

Dr. Nolan pursed his lips for a moment contemplating. He had been preparing his basement for this occasion for the past month, ever since his lawyer informed him this was a possible outcome. He had plenty of things on hand and a bank account with the majority of the life insurance he collected after the passing of his wife seven years ago. Anything he needed or wanted, could be his and delivered to the door within days. 

But the question haunting him at the moment, was what did he want right now? 

Watching the boy on the table squirm and struggle underneath his gaze, the turning of his head in an attempt to determine where he was standing despite being blindfolded. The chewing on the gag in nervousness. It felt fair that he would be in pain-would be scared. After all, that was exactly what he had done to his daughter. Destroyed her, ruined her life. Nolan wanted nothing more at the moment then to destroy this person who was at his mercy.

He needed to hold himself back, he told himself. Couldn't let his anger get out of control and damage the man laying vulnerable before him too quickly. He wanted him to suffer, to pay. And that meant he had to drag this out-even if it meant he couldn't release all his anger out now and be done with it. But the doctor could play this game long term, he was experienced in the art of self-restraint. The satisfaction would be greater if he stretched this out, and why should the 18-year-old get off easy? He didn't deserve fast and painless. He would get a long and painful punishment. 

The silence was deafening. Matt tried in futility to remain still. To hold himself together. But it lasted less than the other person's first three audible breaths.

Every part of him was trembling and it wasn't from the cold of the metal he laid on or the empty air that filled the room he was in. His legs were restrained by the ankles to the end of the table and his wrist chained together underneath it as though he was handcuffed. 

But the widespread of the table was larger than his shoulders, his body still not fully grown into that of a man. So his arms were pulled awkwardly and the muscles in his neck tense from the strain on his shoulders. Pain ran through his nerves with every intake of breath, causing his fingers to twitch and shoot pain through them once again. 

This was torture. And the punishment hadn't even started yet. 

The cloth covering his eyes and mouth, subsequently blinding and gagging him for time being, were sogged through. One with saliva and drool; and disgustingly enough some snot that had managed to run down from his nose-despite his horizontal state. The other with tears which had been absorbed and air-dried from the cloth. Leaving it looking rough and grainy with an accumulation of salt left behind. 

Finally feeling the three beers he had knocked back not fifteen minutes earlier kick in. And with the feeling of ease settling him down a little, the doctor found a pair of shears and started to cut away at his clothes. Just like when a patient comes in for emergency surgery.


	2. The Removal of Boundaries

He jerked as he felt the pull on his pants and froze briefly to identify the source. All Matt heard was the cut of fabric. 

This wasn't happening. Whoever this is was removing his clothes, despite his fights to get away from the hands, they were holding his legs apart from the fabric. The desperate attempt had resulted in nothing more than the person pausing the activity to slap him across his face while muttering something akin to "shut up."

The voice was low and gruff, causing Matt to believe it belonged to a man. The slap was sharp, cutting if a hit could cut skin. He didn't feel any blood on his face but felt a tight burning pain on his cheek and angry pulses of pain through his nose. He was willing to bet he had a nosebleed, but he couldn't reach his hands up to check.  
  
Instead of exploring the extent of his injuries, Matt felt his lower lip trembled and his eyes water again. The feeling of his pants being pulled out from under him in pieces-before the sweat-soaked t-shirt was sliced up the middle to his crew neck. An unrestrainable whimper escaped through the gag as he felt the metal points of scissors brush briefly against his throat. Two quick pulls at his shirtsleeves were enough to shred them and allow them to be torn through. Left only with the feeling of exposure, his shirt now confiscated. 

Nolan took his time on the next part. Cutting the grey boxer briefs on both sides in intervals. Only making little progress each time. Dragging out the process of unclothing the criminal. 

His daughter had told him and the police of how violating it was. How the boy had teased her by forcing her clothes off and licked at her cleavage. The rest of the events had only been even more intimate and fragile that he had left the room in a swift panic at the police station. Leaving his crying daughter with two female officers to take the report. 

So now he watched and felt powerful as the boy squirmed, slightly enough to avoid getting another hit across the face but enough to tell the doctor that he was uncomfortable. The sweat pouring off his exposed body probably similar to what it felt like as it defiled a teenage girl. 

He doesn't like feeling this exposed? This vulnerable? Well, what did he think he made his daughter feel like that when he assaulted her in the grass of the city park? He deserved all that was coming to him. 

After feeling his underwear being removed and the vulnerability of his private parts, he almost didn't notice at first that the man had taken to torturing him. The tips of scissors taunted him. He could feel them being made to walk up to his stomach and chest. He almost wished that this man would shove them through his heart. But forgot about the sudden wish for death when he felt the scissors leave his skin, and instead, something wraps around his upper arm. 

Whatever it was, it tightened in increments and then stayed for a moment. Before seeming to deflate and be removed again. Was this man checking his blood pressure? 

He didn't have long to consider the possibility before he felt a cold sensation on his arm below where his blood pressure was taken. Then the point of a needle pierced his skin and he felt himself disconnecting. Whatever was happening, he didn't want to be aware of it.

His skin felt like it was on fire at his wrists and ankles. Chafed and raw from the metal binds and his lungs suffocating on his own snot and sobs as he failed to fully breathe through the gag and blocked nose. The slow feeling of increasing force pulling his upper back muscles apart to the point where they could snap. All things outside of his body were unnoticeable as Matt fought to grab some form of comfort. There was none he could find to hold on to.


	3. An unspoken Agreement

The boy had seemed to have given up struggling. Instead, he resorted to lying as still as possible and noticeably focusing on his breathing. This was just as well, Nolan had gotten what he wanted for the night. Stripped his personal prisoner and taken some blood samples. He was still a doctor after all, and it didn't hurt to practice the basics every once in a while. 

Plus he found it refreshing. 

He tidied up the small mess, including the torn clothing which he discarded. But hesitated when approaching the stairway when he heard a sudden struggled breath from behind him followed by an unpleasant gagging noise. 

It wouldn't be a good idea to have the boy suffocate on his own vomit during the night. So weighing up the options he approached the table once again. This time with the intent to speak. 

"I'm tempted to let you stay like this all night, but it would be of no benefit of mine if you should choke on your own tongue." He spoke with a deliberately deadpanned tone. Catching the attention of his audience. "So I suppose I could remove this lovely thing from your mouth so I could rest without concern about whether or not you are breathing. But if I do so, and I hear a single unwanted noise come from you, I will slice your throat open and remove your vocal cords." His voice deepened and lowered as he spoke his threat, confident that he could fulfill the promise if he chooses too. "Am I understood?" He finished.

His breath hitched in hope when the man said he would remove the gag. Then it stopped again when he suggested removing his vocal cords if he displeased him....this caused a rush of panic and fear. 

He didn't know what the man wanted from him, if the gag was removed and he couldn't help but crying or speaking, the man would tear out his voice all together. But if he left him much longer like this-he wasn't sure that his airways wouldn't close up.

"If you don't have a preference, I'll just leave you as you are..." The man spoke in his ear and started to lean away and leave. But not before pulling he gag tight once again.

A sudden burst of nodding came from his head as he hoped to catch the man's attention before he disappeared. He heard the man take what seemed like a calming breath. "Very well, you understand the extent of my conditions, correct?" He asked again almost tauntingly. 

Before Matt could second guess himself he nodded slightly again. This time being rewarded with the removal of the unfortunate thing strung between his teeth and tied behind his head. 

He than held his breath until the steps up the staircase stopped and a door swung closed. 

Taking several large and hopefully silent gasps, he tried to calm his racing heart. The cool air in the room made each one of his hairs stand on end and goosebumps rise on his exposed skin. Every inch of his self was finely aware of the surroundings. The pain in his shoulders and retching in his stomach as it twisted and growled was all that kept him from focusing on the sting each hair on his legs felt as they reacted to the temperature. 

Please! He pleaded, although not audible due to his dry throat scratching at itself with every attempt at use. He had to be quiet anyway, he reminded himself. But the desire to scream and coil into himself was held at bay only by the chains and pain that caused the urge in the first place. 

This wasn't right, he shouldn't be here. He didn't deserve this. He thought of and longed for his father, the man he was named after and had raised him. He would tell him to be strong. To hold on, would remind him that he couldn't give up. He heard the encouragement in his father's voice repeat in his mind. Vowed to do as his father had told him.

So Matt laid painfully on the table, his tears indistinguishable from those of pain or sadness. Either way, he could not retain them anymore.  



	4. Tribulations of a Trial

The general surgeon woke up early by nature, whether that meant he was well-rested or not. The five hours of sleep he had gotten were about average, if not more than he would get back when he was still working shifts at the hospital. 

Completing his usual routine of a cup of coffee and a brisk walk, followed by a shower and a healthy breakfast, the time was almost six am. 

It was then he allowed his thoughts to move to the prisoner downstairs. Trapped and secure in his basement. Under any other circumstances, the arrangement would be illegal.

Settling into his office, he reviewed the legal papers again, as he had done twice the day before and each day for the past month.

"An undefined punishment" they called it, legally written as a form of house arrest where the criminal was revoked of rights and placed under the discretion of a fit family member. 

The doctor had argued the idea at first, it seeming too lenient for the rape and subsequent death of his child. The court was reluctant to sentence anything more or jail time as the boy in question had yet to turn 18 at the time. Plus he was set on denying his guilt. 

The boy had no living family or current residence. Homeless except for when he attended a public school miles away. How he got there and back each day was a suspicious mystery. But he had been the one in that park that night. He was the one responsible for his daughter's anguish and pain. He was why he lost the last good thing in his life. 

So when the court came to a halt, most filled with doubt, the man had invoked to take custody of the boy. 

His hatred and anger for the boy poured from him, but the court had been pressured by the public, the majority of people wanting a conviction for the boy and for him to be removed from their neighborhood. 

The rules were stated clearly, the boy was under his discretion and custody. He was required to keep him alive but could use whatever methods deemed necessary to maintain his control and safety. 

Basically he could harm the boy however he wished and justify it with the boy's behavior. 

And after two years it would be discussed if the boy should be given additional rights. The majority of the decision would rest on the man's testimony and what he recommended was best. He is the living victim of the boy's crimes, he had the authority to declare the boy unfit for society and in such a case could choose to have him remain in his custody. 

The boy was transported to his home unconscious, having caused trouble for the people overseeing his transfer. 

He had fought them and yelled apparently, according to the reports. He had simply secured the boy in his basement to wait for whatever they had given the boy to wear off. 

He's been provided with medical histories and an assortment of legal papers, which he began working his way through and signing.

He continued now that he was up for the day, leaving the boy alone for a little while longer. 

The wait was painful and felt like an eternity, Matt wished for some form of relief. His bladder about to burst and his stomach comparably empty. Not to mention the dazed confusion flooding his thoughts. 

He had been put under the custody of a certified authority figure and was under this man's discretion. They hadn't told him straight out that he was a prisoner or a slave, but he knew how to read between the lines. 

They refused to answer any of his questions, to explain to him the conditions he was under. When he had gotten angry and demanded that he be given his rights, he had been tackled and subdued. Left confused when he awoke in this unfamiliar environment, made even more so by the blindfold still covering his eyes. 

He cursed the legal system, he cursed this man, he cursed them all. This wasn't right, but no one had believed the homeless kid that slept on park benches. Not when opposed by a local doctor, who had lawyers and testimonies and the public at his side. 

The man had wanted justice for his daughter, Matt understood that. But it was him who had to undergo that justice. Experience this anger and pain. It was him who was going to suffer.


	5. How it Hurt

"Good morning Mathew! Lovely day isn't it!" Nolan greeted the fellow man as he entered the basement, his voice laced with evil irony. 

The boy was as he was left hours earlier. But now his lips moved, silently wording please.

Ignoring him, Nolan turned on a couple of lights. He had a strange calm in his chest, had a preparedness for what the day would bring. 

"You can hear me, right Mathew?" He asked with confidence. The boy visibly jerked and took a moment to process the words before finally nodding. "I want you to answer me, got that?" 

Matt drew a shaking breath, trying to focus his thoughts and to remember how to produce words. "Yes sir" it was hardly more than a croak, but the attempt was there. Pass or fail.

He wished he could see the man he was talking too, could just look him in the eye and ask him why. Why he was putting him through this pain and what was he going to do to him now. 

His unspoken questions were cut short by a harsh grip on his genitals. A high pitched squeak escaped him as he tried to buck the foreign hand away. But instead of reprieve he got another pull and twist. Sending his body into panic mode as he fought against his restraints. Crying and begging as he worked to get away at all. 

"Please! please stop pleeaasseee...." when the hand stopped moving, but not letting go the words turned into loud and heavy sobs. After an eternity he finally felt the hand let go and his body was allowed to lie still except for his heaving chest. 

"Please....I...please don't cut out my vocal cords" was all he could think to say and immediately kicked himself when he processed what he said. The man could have forgotten about that, why would he remind him! Stupid!

He watched Mathew as he begged. Watch him breakdown as he felt vulnerable and pained. 

"Did she beg you like this? Ask you to stop? But you didn't listen did you!" He spoke angrily, taunting. The boys head shook no "No I didn't I didn't hurt her I swear I didn't please..!" 

"Enough! Do you know who I am, boy?" He asked near his ear. Still shaking his head, but shutting up now, Nolan moved to the boy's other side. 

"You didn't think you would get caught did you? But no one gets away with hurting my little girl....!"

Matt froze. This man. It was his daughter. It was him who pushed for him to be found guilty. It was him who had taken custody of him now. Him who was in control of whether he lived or died.

"Tell me, Mathew, are you scared?" The question was asked with an evil tone, scaring him of the question itself. He hesitated. "Answer me!" The man demanded. 

Kneecaps shaking, the question didn't actually need answering but Matt nodded wildly anyway. Crying out "Yes! I'm scared, please! I didn't hurt anyone I didn't; please believe me! You have to believe me, I didn't hurt her, I swear!" He begged with tears welling up in his eyes and his voice cracking. 

"Give up the lies. It doesn't matter who you try to convince now. Just as well to own up to it." The man says, arguing for his daughter's justice like he did in court. Matt shames himself for not recognizing the voice earlier. 

"Please," he says again this time trying to calm his heart rate, "please just...I don't know what you want from me?" He asks not expecting an answer. 

"I want you to know how she felt! I want you to experience what you put her through." The man spoke clearly but there was a tinge of sadness in his voice. A short silence settled over them.

"I'm sorry your hurting. But please listen to me when I say I didn't hurt her...." He added quietly. He wasn't sure if it was fear or shame that made him feel small on that table. But he could feel the man's eyes staring at him. 

Nolan gave a huff and rolled his eyes. He didn't care what this monster had to say. This had been enough of this shit.

Moving quickly he began to undo the chains from the table, separating the boy's hands from underneath to chain them behind his back again as he sat up and questioned what was happening. Nolan didn't give him the validation of responding. 

Pulling him by his arm, his feet stumbling underneath him and his small cries of pain as he rough-handled him, he pulled the boy into the other room.  
  
The boy sputtered and shivered as he was pulled and pushed and struggled to keep up with his ankles still linked together with chains. The clinking only stopping when the man pushed him onto the toilet seat. "What?" The boy questioned, panic hidden in his voice.

"Take a piss." He told him and started running the shower, not bothering to care about confusing questions. He just waited for the water to run. Cold.


	6. Cold and Cruel

Everything seemed to move faster than Matt could comprehend them. His relief in his shoulders was short-lived as his hands were chained behind him, now pulling his muscles in a different way so they ached all the same. 

His grunts of pain and quiet squeaks of confusion were ignored until he was harshly pushed backward. Falling hard onto something that strikes the middle of his back and sliding down, his nervous panic was responded with instructions. 

"Take a piss!" He almost didn't hear the words through the noise in his head or the sudden turret of running water. 

It took longer than he would have liked to realize they were in a bathroom and that he had been seated on a toilet. Maneuvering himself so it seemed he was properly positioned, he released his bladder and felt a chilling moment of emptiness. 

Turning he attention to the running water, he swore it sounded like a shower. Was he getting to shower? Dare he hope, but his skin felt sticky from sweat and tears and the thought of washing away the past 24 hours sounded like heaven. 

There was a low grumbling sound and at first Matt thought it was his stomach growling, but then he realized the man had been talking to him.

" Get it out now kid, your lucky I don't let you piss yourself. Would too if I didn't have to clean up the mess..." Matt wasn't sure if he was meant to respond or not but quietly nodded and thanked the man under his breath. 

He thanked him!? Here he was naked and chained and thanking the man who'd done it to him. But he reminded himself that kissing this guy off would only make things worse for himself.

"Stand up!" Nolan ordered the boy who quickly obeyed, although struggling to do so with his chained feet and blindfold. That stupid blindfold, Nolan was getting tired of it. It might be fun to see the boys fear in them and watch as he broke down and cried. 

Being pulled over toward his captor, Matt felt his blindfold being torn or his head, some of his longer brown hairs coming with it. Shutting his eyes to avoid the feeling of light searing them he felt another push. This time less forcefully and with instructions, he didn't quite catch. 

"Get in!" He heard and realized the man had repeated himself. Moving quickly to obey he opened his eyes and lifted his foot to step inside the tub in front of him. The shower seeming to run faster than he was used to seeing. Of course, the chain on his feet caught him up mid-step and he fell into the bathtub, and underneath the showers spray. It was cold. Freezing cold. 

Nolan watch as his prisoner stumbled into the shower, practically falling on his butt having to seemed to have forgotten about the restraints on his ankles. Then he saw they look in the boy's eyes. A moment of utter shock filled the boy's face until he finally caught up with his surroundings. 

After the initial disbelief, he scrambled to move out of the range of the water. His shouting the same as he would if he were calling out for help in the middle of the woods. 

"It's cold no it's too cold stop it No!" The words did nothing but annoy him as he pushed the boy directly under the water again. But not before grabbing the man's small face in his hands and forcing eye contact.

"Stop screaming." He practically whispered with an unforgiving tone and stepped away again from the boy. Avoiding the cold water himself. 

Now the boy looked at him pleadingly, shivering under the cold water.  
"Please..please" he struggled to say the words as the water slowed his whole body down. Putting it into survival mode the longer it splashed his skin as he sat balled up on the floor of the tub. 

Nolan looked at the time on his watch. Fifteen minutes would do he figured and leaned against the sink counter. Letting the boy shiver and shake as the water kept coming. 

How long had it been? Where was He? What's going in? Why was it so damn cold? Matt lost his train of thought many times over, each one an attempt to distract himself from the low temperatures surrounded him. But each one just ended with his mind going blank as he felt his lips turn blue.

What he would do to make his water be warm. To sit in the steam and wash away all of the pain currently haunting him. But no, he couldn't. Not only because his hands were behind his back and his body frozen, half lying on the floor of the tub. But the man he was given to stood right there watching. 

His jaw clicking up and down and his whole head refusing to stay still, he struggled to take a focused look at the man. It was indeed the same person from the trials. His clothes appeared to be casual but they also looked formal and business attire ready. It may have been partial to the way he wore the pullover long sleeve sweater. Or how his pants were khakis and belted around his waist. 

Then breaking the freeze-frame the older man looked to his wrist and turned the water off completely. 

"Thank you...thanks you thank you" he couldn't help the words coming from his mouth although they probably sounded like choking coughs. 

Yes he was done, the man would let him warm up and dry off. He waited expectantly for a towel or blanket. But the only thing that changed was how loud the sound of his teeth chattering seemed. Now echoed in the small bathroom walls and without the running water to drown them out. 

"Please I'm cold please it's so cold, pleaseeeesss" he begged and ended off in sobbing breathes once again for who knows how many times in the last few hours. 

The tall man looming over him waited for his banking to subside.

"Once you dry off then we can get on to the next part." He informed him matter-of-factly and it sent fear through the boy's bones. 

"What's the next...tt par...ttt??" He asked still stuttering. 

"Dry off first Mathew, then we'll move on." Was all he got for an answer and it didn't console him at all.


	7. The Slow Burn

Nolan waited for most of the water to dry from his prisoners skin until all that was left was a shivering form in the tub. 

Good. He wanted the boy to be cold for the next part. 

Dragging him out of the bathroom, still quietly pleading for warmth, he didn't expect the sudden burst of movement from the person practically depending on him to stand up straight. But the boy saw their destination was the operating table again. 

"No not again please don't strap me to that thing again no I won't let you please!" It was a bigger struggle to control the boys flailing and get him to the table again then it was to drown out his sobbing. 

As difficult as it was, the surgeon managed to restrain the boy again. This time however his hands were bound by his side's and an additional strap was tightened around his chest. He couldn't risk the moving too much for the part.

Matt tried to get control of his rapid heart and his difficult breaths. Despite his protest and a rush of adrenalin, he was quickly secured to the table once again. However this time his hands were not pulled to meet underneath it, but laying by his side's and he was silently grateful for the small act of mercy.

If was short-lived as the man above him formally introduced himself as Dr. Nolan, whilst preparing an IV tube. 

"What is that for?" He asked nervously, his voice meek with fear. "What..what are you putting in me?" His body squirming against the straps and chains holding it down. 

Matt felt the sting of the needle entering his skin and the placement of the IV tube. The doctor, once satisfied with his work turned about and fiddle with a bag of fluid. 

Matt took a deep breath. Panicking wasn't getting him anywhere and he needed to know what this man planned on doing to his body. 

"Please." He said calmly, stilling himself on the table. "Please just....just tell me what you're putting in me?" He finished as tears formed in his eyes and he stared straight above at the ceiling. Too terrified to look the doctor in the eye. 

"Calm down Mathew," the man towering him assured him. That alone was more of a response then he expected. He was even more shocked when the man continued. "It's nothing harmful-if anything it will make the next part easier for you." 

That mysterious "next part" what did that mean and why wouldn't the doctor just tell him!

"I suppose I might as well share with you, that this next event-as much as I may admittedly enjoy-is, not of my own creation. I am required to complete it as declared in the legal paperwork." 

The man gave his speech with the tone Matt could imagine him giving to other patients. Assuring them it would be alright and painless. But that wasn't what he was guaranteeing him, the doctor had just said it wasn't his own idea to this by that he had to do it all the same. 

He chose to overlook the fact that the man had said he would enjoy it. The idea of being as the hands of someone who enjoyed other's pain far too overwhelming. 

"You might notice that your feeling a little calmer now, that's the work of the sedative and because, as I said, this isn't something I would normally choose to do, there is also a mild pain killer. It won't stop the pain but it might help keep it from throwing you into unconsciousness." 

Matt listened to every word the doctor told him. This was the most he had spoken to him all other times put together and somehow the explanations only made his apprehension worse.

Nolan heated up the numbers out of Mathew's line of sight. Hoping to keep the screaming to a minimum. Though he supposed he couldn't blame him for this one. Having numbers seared into your chest was a procedure every doctor knew could go poorly or lead to infection. 

But the court required that the boy be branded to be identified as a convict since he was not in a government-funded jail.

Nolan felt a strange empathy for his prisoner, all while feeling slightly enthused at the prospect of permanently burning him. This was a punishment after all, but the doctor in him had still encouraged him to give the boy a sedative and pain relievers. If only for making it easier on both of them and lighter on his conscience. He had no intent on being particularly kind to the boy but decided, in this case, it was better to not be overly cruel. 

Mathew appeared to be relaxed but to the trained eye, it was in clear that he was in a state of shock. 

The doctor might as well get this over with, regarding the fact he would have to sear the three numbers three separate times. 

The boy had cried and screamed at just the sight of the tool. Begging him that if he didn't want to do this then to spare him. He placed something in the boy's mouth so he would bite his tongue off. 

Then he began. 

After the three digits had been placed on the boy's chest, all just underneath his collarbone on the right side, both men were breathing deeply. 

It was Mathew that broke to wordless silence. 

"Ahhhhhh! This ain't fair god damn it, I didn't touch that girl I never hurt her I didn't do anything I don't deserve this shit!!!" His bawling words were ugly and mean as he kept stringing them out. Cry and hitting his head against the table it rested on. 

Nolan stared at the marks on the boy's chest. 

121

The number of days between the rape and death of his daughter. And here this son of a bitch was yelling he was innocent. 

Nolan abandoned the boy as he was, and drove to visit his daughters grave.


	8. The lying of Truth

"That fucking bastard!" His chest seared and blistered and the smell of burnt skin pungent in his nose, Matt fought against the restraints and yelled in anger. 

The man had acted like he didn't want this, what a lie that was. Matt had seen his eyes as he came toward him with the red hot branding iron! Full of hate and anger for the man who attacked his daughter-but that wasn't him! 

But just like the last six months in court, no one listened. No one believed him. And now because of it, he had a permanent mark, identifying him as a criminal. 

The angry screams eventually turned into pitiful whines and sobs, and his body too dehydrated to produce tears. 

Then there was the pain. He realized now why the older man had let him freeze in the cold water and refused to give him any sort of warmth. He wanted him to feel the desperation for each, praying for warmer water while sitting in the bathroom and now wanting nothing more than to soothe the blisters on his chest. To cool the burn and reduce the pain. 

The instinct to scratch and move to look at his chest grew as his throat grew raw from yelling. Leaving him little to distract from the wound beside his exhaustion and thirst. The man hadn't given him anything to eat or drink since he brought him here. Unless that shower torture was supposed to hydrate him. 

Flicking his gaze to the IV, Matt noticed it was losing volume as the solution entered his body. Whatever he was being drugged with was shirking in size until the small plastic bag looked like it had been sealed airtight. 

There was no way it had actually been pain killers, not with how much he currently hurt. Whatever the man was doing to him wasn't good and he wanted so badly to yank the thing out of his arm. But strapped down as he was, not to mention how weak his whole body felt. His head pulsing and waves of dizziness threatening to bring him into unconsciousness. 

The boy on the table stopped moving so much, flicking in and out of the darkness. A grimace permanently plastered on his face.

Nolan sat there on his knees as the sun started to set. Then watched the sun go down as the shadows cast over the headstone that held her name so beautifully yet so horribly at the same time. 

Eloise Ann, her lifespan encompassing less than sixteen years. He stayed and watched it until it was too dark to see anything more than its outline before he stood up and journeyed home.

The boy's screams had disappeared, Nolan wouldn't be surprised if the drugs had worn off and he had blacked out from the pain. He only heard pieces of the intolerant screaming as he left his home, but what he heard had not pleased him at all. 

It didn't matter of the boy admitted it or not. He could deny it to his grave, it didn't change the fact that he was in his custody now. Nolan's own personal prisoner. He could make the boy regret every decision he ever made, the 18-year-old had been here already for two days and hadn't stopped crying or screaming or begging. 

He was learning what it meant to be helpless. Small parts of his mind fogged up with guilt here and there, knowing the boy was still a human being. But he quickly waved the concern away. He knew what he signed up for when he agreed to do this. He was to keep the boy contained and to punish any behavior that was unacceptable, including his crime. 

He was protecting his daughter in the last way he knew how getting her justice. He would keep the boy alive but he would teach him to be grateful for everything he got.

Perhaps this was part of the reason for the fast-food bag in his hand. He had justified it at the time by saying he wouldn't waste time on cooking, but it was also to get Mathew to realize that he could make this easier for himself. 

Even that wasn't quite the reason. But Nolan didn't want to consider the alternative as a possibility.

The boy couldn't be innocent.


	9. Pain is Easy

His mouth felt dry and his throat hurt from his earlier screams. He had cried and cursed the whole damned world until he felt like his lungs were caving in on themselves and his heart paining. 

His eyes laid closed and his head turned to the side, having passed out from exhaustion bit had woken up without enough energy to even open his eyes. 

He felt the pain on his chest differently now. At first, it was hot and searing and came in sudden burst whenever he had an intake of breath.

Now it just hurt constantly. 

The pain wasn't any lesser either, in fact, the instinct to scratch and pick at his skin, to relieve the tightness and stretching he felt below his shoulder. It drove his mind into insanity-unable to just cool the sear marks down. 

It was torture lying there, he didn't know where the man had gone. 

Dr. Nolan, he reminded himself. Curse him and curse his daughter and curse his justice. 

His body felt stiff, but also weak and limp. As though if he tried to stand he wouldn't be able to hold himself up. 

Maybe he was dying now. The way he felt, so disconnected. So unaware. He almost hoped he would die. This man had nothing but hatred towards him. Wanted nothing more to torture him within an inch of his life. 

Maybe he could just speed the process up. 

But then a door cracked open and his eyes went wide.

The rise and fall of the boy's naked chest was slow and uneven. He was looking in the opposite direction so Nolan wasn't sure if he was awake or not. The small gasp that came when he dropped the take out bag on a table nearby gave him the answer. 

"It's a good thing no one lives nearby Mathew if I had gotten any complaints I would have followed through on my earlier threat. But the vocal cords are rather tricky and it can be a messy procedure. So I'm hoping you won't force my hand any further...?" He raised his eyebrow even though Mathew wouldn't see it-turned away as he was.

The lack of response didn't surprise him as he looked to the IV bag. Now empty and the pain meds surely having worn off. 

Removing the IV and returning his tools to the Places, the doctor decided to address the brand. 

It was red and swollen and the skin around the numbers was blistering. The boy seemingly subdued, he went ahead and covered it in disinfectant ointment. 

But the act was interrupted almost immediately by pained yells.

"Stay the hell away from me! Don't touch me!" 

Matt screamed as loud as he could manage, subsequently causing a feeling of something tearing in his throat as he unexpectedly changed positions. 

The doctor stood there with gloves on and a look of shock and almost confusion on his face. They stared at each other, Matt's full of hatred and the doctor just bewilderment. 

With a shake of his head, the older man seems to come back to his senses. His voice scarily calm, he commands the boy again. 

"I've said to keep your mouth shut." The look he gives the boy feels like a parent inquiring about uncompleted homework. It's enough to make him squirm and pull against his bonds. 

Feeling shocked and confused the boy laid still and the doctor seized the chance to finish whatever he had been doing to his chest. He was rubbing something on it and the motion of the hand irritated the skin and brought silent tears to his eyes. Then a clear plastic was stuck on, the adhesive side sure to be painful to remove. 

But after a moment of silence the doctor turned away and grabbed something and sat down facing the boy. 

Matt realized suddenly that something smelled good. A brown paper bag with grease stains was held in front of him, if his arms were free he could have reached and taken it. 

But the man wanted to taunt him.

"Are you hungry Mathew?"

Matt just scowled, refusing to dignify him with an answer. They both knew he was starving and dehydrated, but he was used to not having enough to eat. Hunger becomes a constant companion when you rely on social programs. 

Dispite this it still seemed as though his insides were consuming themselves. A sharp and pointed pain radiating from his abdomen. 

"I don't want anything from You!" He finally mumbled out. 

"You have to eat Mathew," the man told him frankly. 

"I....IIII" he started but his voice cut off short.

Nolan waited impatiently but said nothing all the same. 

"I want to feed myself..." the words came out with tugs at his wrists, which now felt stripped of skin and stung from the movement. But he persisted and stared the man in the eyes. Hoping that they showed all the bleeding anger he felt towards the man. 

"That is entirely dependent on you Mathew." Nolan told him calmly, he had not intended to hand feed the boy either way. But it was something he realized he could make the boy earn. 

The pointed stare in the eyes looking at him would cut a hole through stone, but he wasn't shaken by it. "It depends are whether or not you intend to behave?" He paused as the look of anger melted into shock or confusion. 

"And if I don't?!" There was attempted condescension in the question but it was made ineffective by the crack of his voice. His fear returning to his eyes again, satisfying Nolan. That is what he wanted. He wants the boy to be scared. 

To answer the question though he sighs and says "Than we will have to wait until tomorrow." And made his way to head upstairs. 

It was the sound of the table rocking that made him look back from the fifth step, a questioning eyebrow lifted at the boy as he growled in anger before making a sound unlike any sob or cry he had ever heard before.

" Please...." eyes squeezed tight as if the words hurt to say. "Please...don't leave me here like this again!" Nolan made no move up or down the stairway. Letting silence hang in the air until the boy continued again.

"Please...I'll, I'll do what you want okay? I'll behave okay!? Please just let me up, please!" The begging caused a visible shuddered to run through the smaller form in front of him. 

The eye contact disappeared the moment Nolan started down the steps again. His prisoner looking anywhere else besides his face. 

"Will you stop throwing these tantrums and eat?" The boy looked at him now, his lower lip trembling and his eyes wide.

At first all the boy did was close his eyes again and nod before realizing verbal agreement was necessary. "Yes, sir. Please...I..I promise." The words ended with a large gulp as the teenager attempted to swallow the large lump in his throat. 

"Very well then, Mathew." The doctor slowly moved to release the restraints binding his ankles to the table, leaving the chain linking them secure. 

As be stood at the boys hip to release his wrists, Nolan noticed the boy's eyes were wide and looking unblinkingly at the ceiling. Not daring to move more than the twitches seen in his fingers. 

Mathew laid lifeless as Nolan finished releasing his hands. Neither spoke until Nolan lifted the boy up so he was sitting on the table and now face to face with him before breaking the quiet. 

"Good job Mathew, keep it up and you can make this a whole lot easier for yourself." Nolan spoke quietly into the boy's ear, a small smile now on his lips. 

The encouragement, however, didn't ease Mathew's fear.


	10. Take out takes you back

His legs were sore and any muscle that had once held him up straight was gone. Dr. Nolan didn't give him time to groan as everything ached, swinging him over into a chair against the wall. Practically throwing him as if he were a doll, his limbs didn't feel under his control anymore after all.

A dinner tray was pushed towards him and the fast-food bag emptied out. French fries going everywhere on the little table and napkins following suit. Mathew held his wrist tenderly to his chest, rubbing at them both softly. His tearful eyes only briefly looking to meet the man's expectant ones above him. A shudder ran through him again, how did this man make him feel so cold just by looking at him?

Repressing another shake and collecting a couple of fries the boy started to eat. The food was cold and after a few bites, he felt himself starting to choke. He coughed helpless, wanting nothing more than to curl up and hide away once the food was dislodged. Especially under such an impatient gaze. The doctor turned around after he had hesitantly selected another fry.

Concerned for the impact of a hit, Mathew shut his eyes and tried to shy away. It took a moment for him to look again and see a water bottle held out to him. Nervously he accepted it from the outstretched hand and watched the man's face as he nodded once to order him to open it without words. But maybe it was the sweat or his shaking hands that made it difficult. Struggling to open the plastic bottle, but instead feeling as though he was shredding his hand on the friction of the bottle cap. 

Then the desperation to open the damned thing came, not only because he really needed a drink but also because he feared his captor would grow angry. After some time that felt like forever, the man took the bottle from him again. Seemingly fed up and changing his mind. The sound that came from the boy's throat was one of sad grief. High pitched and pig-like. Repressing the plans to stand up and demand it back from the older man, Matt grit his teeth and began to eat again. He had promised to behave....he assumed it would be better to play the part out for as long as he could manage. But then the now open bottle was placed and his hand again and his eyes widen in surprise. 

"Mathew....? Eat!" The doctor's words brought him back and startled him when he realized he had been looking blankly into the man's face. Greedily taking several sips of water, having long forgotten trying to not seem too eager, a relieved sigh escaped after the liquid hydrated his throat again. Still watching him, the man had a displeased look on his face. It wasn't rushing him though. It was simply there. None the less it was difficult to ignore. 

Nolan didn't rush the boy, although he was growing tired and wanted to go to bed.

Mathew ate quietly except for the occasional dry coughs and clearing his throat each time something became lodged there. But Nolan also couldn't help but see the quick moments of comfort the meal brought the boy. Each time they were quickly dismissed again, obviously in hope that he wouldn't notice, but satisfaction grew on the eating boy's face as his hunger was subdued. He couldn't stop the memories, the way Ellie had looked so excited whoever he brought her favorite take out dish. He had ordered the same thing for the boy on instinct, not realizing what he had done until then.

The order was burnt into his brain, how the difficulties of a teenage girl could seemingly be solved with fries and a burger. He remembered how that had stopped working so many months ago. How the surprize food failed at bringing a smile to his daughter's face.... It had killed him to realize that it didn't fix everything anymore. That this was a problem he couldn't solve with take out.

Yet here he was, with the problem-watching him eat take out. The same fast food used to make Ellie brighten up on a bad day. 

It wasn't until Mathew squirmed under his gaze did he come out of his daze. The boy sat there, looking small and his eyes downcast and Nolan realized he had finished eating. 

He remembered then the agreement they had made, the boy requesting to be released from the operating table Nolan had been using to contain him. 

The boy said he would behave, and he supposes that the boy had complied well enough. Now that he had eaten though, Nolan wasn't confident about what he would do with the boy now. He hadn't quite planned for this turn of events, had assumed he would leave the boy lying on the table for at least another night. 

But he questioned if he had promised the boy not to tie him down there again or not? What exactly had the conversation been? He didn't say that he wouldn't strap the boy back down, behave or not. It was certainly still an option. 

And Mathew knew this as well as he flicked his eyes quickly between the table and the floor. Scared of what was coming next. 

The fear might have made Nolan smile if he only knew the answer.


	11. Done in and Tired

"Stay." Was his only direction as the doctor turned around and walked into the other hallway. 

Stay he had told him as if it were a test and his feet weren't still chained together. Even so, he didn't dare move, unsure of what the man had fine to do and didn't want to make his own situation any worse. 

Mathew couldn't think about anything except for what was happening next. The way he had looked at the table, considering to just tie him back down to it. For whatever reason, Nolan had decided otherwise, if not more than the moment.

It isn't until the sound of handcuffs right in front of him that he came from his daze.

"Hold your hands out Mathew"  
  
A muffled gulp came from the boy as he bowed his down. Taking his hands to squeeze them between his knees.

"Now Mathew, you said you would behave, so do what I say." The voice wasn't angry, but it was authoritative and confident. Like a parent scolding a child. 

Eyes wide and wet with tears, the boy complied. Holding up his red and hurting wrists, biting his lower lip in an attempt to stop it's trembling. With two sharp sounds of the locks clicking, he pulled his hands to his chest and let his head fall forward again. As tears clouded his eyes, Matt didn't see the man above him lean downward and remove the chain from between his feet.

He watched with weary eyes as the man grabbed his upper arm and pulled him up to stand. His knees immediately giving out and leaving him being held up solely by the man's grip.  
The older man felt this and groaned as he got a hold of Matt's other shoulder. Carrying his weight the man dragged him along as his feet pointless touched the floor.

It took a moment for Matt to register where they were going as he felt himself move through the rooms. The bathroom he realized. 

The BATHROOM! NO! This man was going to force him to sit in the cold water again. Freeze him as a kind of torture. No Mathew couldn't let him, he couldn't take it. But he also couldn't hold himself up long enough to do anything.

Shaking even more now, the man leaned him against the wall outside the bathroom. Suddenly adrenaline kicked in high hear. Matt didn't think, didn't know where this energy was coming from or what he was doing. He just felt his legs moving underneath him.

He had no plan, of course, he didn't know what he intended to do but it didn't matter either way.  
He had easily been caught again, the doctor badly noticing his flaring limbs. The rush having quickly died out again as he reached midway up the stairs and tripped on his own feet.

Matt felt himself grow weak and limp as the man roughly pulled him back. Feeling the anger and frustration from the way he was held off the ground.  
Nolan dropped the weak and trembling boy on the toilet, he had just wanted to get the boy to empty his bladder. But the boy couldn't even behave long enough to take a shit. 

Nolan stood silently in the doorway. The boy was becoming a pain in his ass. He ought to whip him, but realized not only that the creature in a catatonic space in front of him likely die-and probably wet himself giving Nolan just another mess to clean up. But he was exhausted.

For hours he could have been up in bed by now, he didn't know what time it was and just wanted to be done for the day. 

But he had to figure the boy out first. Without a second thought, the decision was made. Nolan abandoned the boy, knowing-nor caring-that the boy wouldn't run again or not. If his terrified mantra said anything. 

His personal medical lockup had everything he needed and he collected the equipment with a hazardous awareness. His patience for the boy was gone. 

All Mathew knew was the black emptiness and sudden panic as the prick of a needle was felt in his arm. It's precision and procedure lazy. 

But his heartbeat felt steady, and his breath fell into a rhythmic pattern. A strange calm overwhelmed him than it grounded him. Held him down.

"Your safe." his dad would tell him, on those nights filled with nightmares. Letting him know that it was okay to close his eyes and let the weight of them were off as he slept.

A faint ache rested in Mathew's temples, his eyes dizzy and disorientated without even being open. There was a sour taste in his mouth since he hadn't properly brushed his teeth in a while. But Mathew still felt calm. Things were hazy, but still present as he drifted in and out of sleep. Feeling steadied by his dad's comforting words. 

When he woke up again the calm was gone.


	12. Damned if you do

Nolan had known he had about 12 hours. Yet he only managed to sleep for six, which was surprising considering he early slept in. But it had been late when he finally went to bed last night, in fact, it had been this morning sometime. 

Mathew was as he had left the boy. Unconscious and haphazardly secured to the table he hated so much again. The little shit had tried to run and had achieved nothing but pissed the older man off. A lot. 

The chains that held his hands and feet were looser because of his hurry to just get to sleep. But he was still restrained tightly enough that he wouldn't be able to mess with the catheter now inside him. 

The boy had been to out of it to take any kind of direction last night. Even something as simple as using a toilet. The prospect however of cleaning up such a mess was strong enough to compelled the man to turn to a better solution. 

This worked well it seemed if he chooses he could keep the boy this way without having to bother to let him up to go to the bathroom at all. It would certainly be less trouble for him. 

But he had wanted to give the boy a chance last night, and he also wanted to give him a whipping. After sleeping on it, he came to the realization that this was a perfect chance to teach the boy a lesson. 

Memories were patchy and strained in his head, and Mathew went to hold a hand on his head to straighten out his thoughts. But with a sudden jerk, he realized he couldn't and quickly remembered the events from the night before. 

And....something felt.....strange?

Mathew forced his head up and looked down at himself. 

There was something stuck inside his penis.

Get it out! Get it out! GET IT OUT!

He jerked against his bonds, trying to get the thing out of him with his thighs. 

A forceful hand stops his efforts. 

"Stop it Mathew, just stop it."

The boy felt frozen in place. In the silence, he asked "What did you do to me? What was In that shot?" The prone boy asked with respiration in his voice. 

"So you remember last night then?" The older man asked and Mathew pled. Realizing he had just walked into a trap. He went silent. 

"Answer me Mathew." Nolan demanded of him. 

"Yes..ss sir" he replied with a nervous gulp.

"So you remember how you ran and fought to get away?" Nolan questioned, condescension seeming to pour from his mouth. 

Closing his eyes and nodding, "yes sir" was all the boy could squeak out. Fear was coiling up inside of him and he wasn't sure what to do about it. 

"You ran Mathew and I can only wonder why....you knew you wouldn't get far and even if you had you would have been identified by your brand and returned to me. So, it was rather stupid of you to try wasn't it?" 

"Yes sir." A pause hung over them. 

"Your actions were quite inconvenient and irritating. And because of that, I think you deserve to be punished."

Defiance struck his heart and eyes "No! sir please! no! I won't do it again please! I'm sorry! I panicked please...." his begging and resistance, fighting against the bonds was halted with a sudden slap. 

"Quiet down!" Nolan ordered, " You are not getting away with that behavior." The sterner in his voice made Mathew wince. 

"However, I have decided to let you choose." The man stood still and eyes the boy like a predator. 

"Choo..chose What?" Mathew asked, already shaking in fear of the answer. 

"Your punishment." He paused intentionally before continuing. "As you can see I've set it up so you could remain as you are for a few days. There's no need to let you up to use the restroom as long as you have a catheter. So I could just go on with my daily routine while you continue to think about what you've done." 

"Anything but that please" Mathew cried. He had only woken up a short while ago but he was already uncomfortable. And terrified at the prospect of the thing inside him remaining there any longer as it was. He wouldn't be able to take days like this without being able to sit up.

"Or, you may choose to be whipped and done with it today and we can try to start fresh tomorrow." The man stated casually as if he were speaking of dinner plans. 

One word hung in Mathew's mind. "Whipped?" It came out in a quiet and soft voice that could be mistaken for as a child's. 

Tears had already sprung into his eyes, and his kneecaps shook. 

"Yes Mathew, you must know that such behavior cannot be tolerated! It's alright" he comforted slightly before finishing the sentence and brought the fear back again. "You don't have to decide right now. I think I'll give you a few hours. I have some work to catch up on. So think it over. In the meantime, I'll just readjust some of the restraints." 

Mathews pleads were ignored as Nolan tighten the restraint on his feet and hands. This time pulling his hand so that they lay flat above his head. Making it difficult to raise his head upwards at all. 

Nolan easily proceeded despite the boys protesting. Strapping him down more securely than he had the night before, both out of exhaustion and disregard. Knowing that with the drug he wouldn't be able to do much anyways.

But now he took his time and paid attention to the boy as small sobs began to come from his mouth and he shook his head back and forth as to say no. 

He kept his face stoic and blank as the boy looked for some kind of mercy, refusing to let himself feel pity for the boy. He deserved what he was getting. It was his own fault for running away. Nolan had been prepared to allow him a more comfortable arrangement. But he spoiled that for himself. 

"I'll come to see what you've decided in a few hours." Was all the words he spoke as he climbed up the stairs, closing the door to block out the muffled whines and cries coming from downstairs. 

Reaching his study, Nolan looked at the scattered papers on his desk. He did have work that had to be done. Normally he would have seen to it when he woke up in the morning after his routine. Sitting down with the remains of his coffee to start going over the papers that filled his desk just a part of his daily life. But he hadn't done any of it this morning and was already feeling rather behind. 

So he committed to complying a few tasks, if for no other reason than to eliminate some things from his desk. Including in this were several letters that had to be mailed in the post office in town. 

The events of the last day had brought on a drained feeling in him. So with the letters in hand, he left to drive to town and get some air and pick some things up while he was gone. He gave no regard to the prisoner, he would return when he would return. 

Excusing the unwell look in his face and needing feeling in his stomach for being lethargic. The doctor stepped out to run his errands and cure what he was sure just some leftover tiredness


	13. Damned if you don't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Discussion of rape

Excruciating. The way his muscles felt strained and head heavy. It hurt for Mathew to even open his eyes. 

He couldn't take this for however long the man would leave him. Anything but the way his back arched upward to give relief to his limbs just to pull his skin and remind him of his blistered chest.

But he didn't want the alternative either. 

His dad had always told him that no matter what to do the right thing and it would be okay. 

He had tried to do the right that night, but nothing now seemed to be okay. Consciousness slipped from him as wet tears fell and his dreams brought up the memories. 

It was the day before the one-year anniversary of his dad's passing. Matt cried as he walked through the park, heading towards a bench he regularly slept on. After his dad died, he hadn't had anywhere to go. For months he had been taking his showers in the school gym and sneaking onto pubic buses to get there and back. 

But that night was interrupted by cries other than his own. 

He heard the struggle before he saw it. Starting to run when the shouts became distinct words of a girl shouting for someone to leave her alone. 

What he ran into was a man hitting a girl in the head with a brick from the nearby flower bed. The girl's skirt was pulled down and there was blood. A lot of it.

They made eye contact and Matt had charged him. They fought but Matt stumbled and struggled. The other man was stronger and forced Matt to the ground. The girl's small high heel shoe laid on the ground and the man who had attacked her reached for it. Then while pinning Matt to the ground, he hit him with it in the chest and stomach. The heel.leaving imprints in his skin. When Matt was coiling in pain he was choked and passed out. The next time he woke up it was morning and he was surrounded by police officers and a large crowd being kept back as reporters took pictures. 

Trying to clear his head he sat up and heard a woman nearby shout at him, but failed to register what she said. Then more shouting ensued as it was all buzzed out in his ears as the surroundings caught up with him. 

The questions from the police and the accusations from the public. People angrily saying from behind the yellow tape that he was a neighborhood delinquent. Accusing him of stealing mail and spying on people. He didn't get a chance to so much as look at the people hating him from afar before he was escorted to the police station. 

They took pictures there of the bruises and tested the blood on his clothes. They asked him questions but they didn't believe any of his answers. 

He had thought that someone would help him. Speak on his behalf or support his story. But no one wanted to help the homeless kid who was probably an addict and now a sex offender.

Matt had held out hope as he slept in the holding cell the next night, actually clean and not hungry and sheltered from the cold air. He hoped they would find something, a videotape, that the girl would remember something.

He had been doing the right thing he had told himself, and that meant it would all be okay. The misunderstandings would be sorted and he could help them find the real guy. 

But nothing like that happened. Instead, the father of the raped girl criminalized him. Shouted at him publicly and silence him whenever he tried to argue his innocence. 

It became a match between a doctor and a homeless kid, a heartfelt movie yet to be made where the truth would come out and it would all be okay. 

But that movie stared Mathew and had a very different ending. 

He had pleaded again and again for someone to believe him, but even the lawyer assigned to his case seemed to be more interested in how Matt had been surviving all alone. Where did he get food from? Where did the money come from when he needed it?

When the trial came they spoke of it like it was already a sealed case. He didn't realize until afterward that he never had a chance. They had the girls shoe bruises on his chest, her blood on his clothes and a community of people tired of seeing him in their park.

At the end of it all Mathew promised himself that he would the right thing no matter what. He wouldn't let anyone hurt him, and he would do keep trying to make things work out. 

But he ended up in this basement, pulled tight like a string and a searing pain permanently on his skin. 

He was already hurt. It was too late for any kind of promise now. It didn't damn matter if he did the right thing or not, he was the one who was taking the fall. The one who was hurting and the one who had to suffer. 

And he also had to choose. He had to choose how he wanted the man to....punish... him. Otherwise, he knew the man would decide for him if he wasn't already planning to disregard whatever Matt had to say.

The man had spoken of a fresh start. What did that mean? It was stupid to hope that it meant some kind of forgiveness or mercy. 

The pain would be what decided for him, pain and the fear of more of it. Terrifying thoughts hunted for what felt like days until there was a sound from the dark.

A sound that meant that more pain was coming either way.

It took Nolan longer than he had planned to run his errands. A two-hour trip growing into five when an old friend insisted he come for a visit. 

Not that it mattered he supposed, the catheter would keep the boy from making a mess and that was the only real concern for the moment. 

The boy shook when he came down his whole body seeming to panic at its very existence. 

Mathew held his mouth shut only acknowledging the doctor with his following eyes. Tear stain streaked were visible again t the sweat and grim on his face, even in the poor light of the dying lightbulb.

"I had a very enjoyable afternoon Mathew, with this set up I don't need to worry about you at all. It was quite a nice break from the thoughts of having to clean up and take care of you in such a way." Nolan said as his hand went towards the boy's penis. He wasn't attracted to it but saw it as a doctor saw a patient. The tube securely in the boy without trouble. He pulled on it gently to see the reaction from the boy. 

He wasn't disappointed, the boy squirmed with a whimper and tightly shut his eyes.  
"Have you made a decision Mathew? I've given you plenty of time, so what is It? Would you like to take the whip and get it over with? Start over again as if your poor behavior hadn't happened last night? But you seem so quiet as you are, it would be a shame to disrupt this peace for myself." He rattled on, keenly aware of the anger and fear mixed amongst the boy's face. 

Giving in to a silent pause, filled with nothing more than the faint sound of chains as Mathew struggled and failed at holding himself still. 

"No answer? I'll take that as agreement to maintain this then." Nolan made to turn away before turning back again. "But of course let's just make nothing has loosened on us first." 

Moving and clicking the padlocks two link tighter in each place the boy produced little more dry gasps and moans. 

He ignored them as he walked back up the steps, surprised to hear a quiet help from behind him. Turning around he saw crying eyes and the boy mouthing the words "no! please!"

It seemed the boy had decided on what he wanted to do. Nolan approached him slowly and asked, "Are you saying you would prefer the option? This way I will leave you alone and stop bothering you constantly?"

Mathews's eyes were red as he felt himself nod. Wincing as pain shot through every nerve. 

No he thought. But I can't be left alone like this. For some reason the idea that the very man he was afraid of leaving him alone in isolation was more frightening than the doctor himself. 

He hated the older man but didn't think he could manage without some form of interaction. Being tortured by someone suddenly seemed better than being tortured by his own memories as he wasted away in the dark. 

But the look on the doctor's eyes made him question it as soon as he realized what he just done. 

"Please torture me" he might as well just shouted, and now the Nolan looked at him with a strange interest.

But the pain had already become too much to handle.


	14. Whipped into Shape

The boys sobbing didn't wait until the whip struck him. It began as soon as Nolan started to remove the catheter and restraints. 

The wails only intensified as he chained the boy's hands to the floor so that he was kneeling. 

When the sound of a large snap rang threw the room, a strong scream followed it. Deep ragged breaths trying to beg for mercy.

The line cut threw the boy's skin from his right shoulder blade to his left hip. It was straight and looked as clean as it would if he had done it with a scaple. 

But the second swing of his arm Nolan didn't even hear the cries anymore. All sound became tuned out as he grew hyper-aware of what he was doing and doing it with intent. 

The total came to six when his fire ran out in his chest and the blood obscured his view of another place to aim. 

The surroundings melted back into place then. The dry heaves and gasps of pain the background music to his thoughts as he stated at the red on the body in front of him. He had a mess to clean up after all. And he had made it himself, his frustration booked at the thought but calmed again. The spark unable to find any more kindling to set the fire on again. 

The boy rocked, cradled into himself with his face hidden in his knees. Curious Nolan reaches down to examine the cuts on the boys back, but he violently jolted when his hand came in to contact with the skin. 

Finally the words became legible Now, "please, just please leave me alone for a bit. Please I'm begging you just stop I can't take it." The long sentence ended with a harsh gasp for breath and a shaking of his head. Nolan retreated up the stairs and turned out the light. Letting his prisoner stew as he was in the dark for a while. 

The worst pain he had ever felt. More than the brand on his chest as his back was sliced apart. He felt himself tearing the wounds open mores as he rocked back and forth but didn't care. 

It couldn't hurt worse than what it did right now. It just couldn't. He never wanted to imagine anything being worse, the man had left him alone then. It had stopped for the moment. It's done Mathew repeated in his head. It's done it over it's okay now. He tried to comfort himself but the thoughts did little to ease his terror.

He imagined it were his dad speaking to him, assuring him it was over now. The visualization helped ease the physical pain as the emotional hurt surfaced again. 

He sat there, hands chained to the floor, not that he could move anyways without pain erupting somewhere in his body. But now Mathew just waited and almost begged for death. Or anything to give him relief. Eventually, his wish was granted as his head rolled over onto his shoulder, passing out from the pain. 

When Nolan had returned early the next morning, having left Mathew for the night, he saw the mess was bigger than he had left it. And to make things worse, Mathew had pissed all over himself and the floor. 

Seeing the boy was it cold from whatever single or combination of causes, he returned to his office. And made a point to watch for when the time struck noon. 

When it did he stood up from his chair where he had been crouched and made himself lunch. Cooking up some salmon with herbs and spices. After his meal Nolan considered what to do in regards to feeding the boy downstairs. Surely he had woken up by his and would not be able to comprehend anything properly unless he had some food and water in his system. 

With this in mind Nolan boiled a frozen hot dog, the meal was much less nutritious and took much less effort than his own had. But after wrapping it in some tin foil he unwrapped it again to squirt some ketchup onto the thing. Knowing it was stupid that he cared at all about if the boy enjoyed his meal or not.

Collecting a couple of bottles of water and the rewrapped hot dog, Nolan started towards his basement. Mathew was, in fact, awake but certainly not aware of anything more than the shock on his eyes when the lights flicked on. Cowering his face away from the brightness.

Mathew waited for eyes to adjust but even then look over to his captor. He had no desire to watch the man look at him with the hatred he always did. 

When the footsteps neared him? He expected a pull of his hair or a slap of his face. Or please let if not be another strike of the whip to his back. 

But instead of outright pain, he felt a pull at his wrists. Opening his eyes he watched as the man rearranged the chains with quick precision. Shocked when the man moved away from him Again, not only without hurting him but with more free movement of his arms. 

It was even more shocking when the man came forward the second time with things in his hands. Hee watched with disbelief at something seemingly wrapped in tinfoil and a bottle of water was placed into each of his hands. 

"Drink and eat it. And you can stay in your own filth for a while I think. I'm not in the mode to clean up after you like a child." The words were spoken with little emotion in the voice and a concrete trust that they were true. 

Mathew did little more but not as he opened the water, although with difficulty again, and took a large sip. Feeling strange as the idea of not being dehydrated returned to him. 

The man stood at a bench and walked around seeming to tidy things away. Giving Mathew a look over his shoulder as he did so. 

Before it could be taken from him again he unwrapped what he found to be a hot dog and ate it slowly, wincing at he felt his stomach protest slightly after not eating in what felt like longer than it probably was. 

He didn't dare speak a word when he finished. He just stared at his own hands, as they felt full of grim and germs. And his back stung from the stretch of his skin When he moved. 

He waited patiently until Nolan approached him again to collect his garbage and hand him a second water bottle. His hand shook slightly as he accepted it, fearful it was a trick. But then the older man simply switched on a smaller light and walked for the stairwell again. 

"Thank you." He didn't know if he was supposed to say anything or not, but he felt strangely grateful now that his stomach didn't feel so empty and his mouth not so dry. 

The man didn't respond but paused for a moment of the steps before walking on again. Mathew hugged himself once Again, astonished that this had been the same man to cause him so much pain only hours ago.

Nolan felt a strange emotion too as he closed the door behind him. How could he hate someone so much but still take care of him all the same? The answer alluded him and he left to continue with his work.


	15. Please let it be Warm

The routine continued for three days. Each day Nolan would provide the boy something to eat a couple of bottles of water to sustain him. Letting him simply add to the mess on the floor instead of bothering with moving him or cleaning it up. The boy didn't complain but he was clearly uncomfortable and irritated by the smell and feeling of it undoubtedly stuck to his skin. 

It was after three days though that the stench had simply become too much for Nolan to handle and even started smelling it in other places in the house. 

Mathew leaned difficulty against the nearest wall, even then his arms straining with the chains around his hands. 

He tried very hard to keep from shivering or even as much as needing to move at all, every time he did he felt the welts on his back reopen after starting to heal. Causing pain and for them to have to begin all over again. 

The brand on his chest was settling some, or maybe it was the pain on his back that distracted him from it. Of course, whenever he thought of it and looked down at himself, a heavy tremble rolled through his body and a fast intake of breath proceeded to bite his lower lip to keep from crying. Not that it had worked very much overall though, the few times he had managed to shut his eyes and experience something close to sleep he had done so while tears fell down his face and his breath hiccuped.

It smelled. Bad. But it wasn't it that smelled. It was him. He smelled. Matt could swear he could taste the cooper ting of blood on his tough, and the feeling of it being dried and covering his back did nothing to warm him from the cold. Not to mention he was still sitting in his own waste. The doctor had not been happy to realize this when his bladder first released uncontrolled as the sharp pain burst through his back, seeming to shock all of his insides. 

He remembered crying and begging, wanting it to be over but terrified that it wouldn't be. But to his surprise, the man had stepped away and left him writhing I pain. 

Eventually Mathew had blacked out and lid on the concrete floor. Waking to feel weak and struggling to think. How much blood had he lost? Was that why he had felt so ill? The thoughts hadn't occurred at the time but after finding the strength to sit upward, or at least crouched so that his wrists did not feel the pull of the cuffs. 

Mathew had assumed that it was logical, but knew he would never ask the man torturing him. Doctor or not. 

When the man did return though, he had no idea how long it had been and was suspicious. Then surprised when he discovered that the older man had brought him food and water, and even more so shocked when he made for his hands to have more movement. 

He had been fed two times since, or was it three? Each time he cowered away, ashamed and scared of his state and his mess. Even though it wasn't really his own fault that he had pissed himself.  
  
But each time he had been handed a plate of food and some water, the man watching him eat and give questioning looks after each bite fearing it was a trick or that it would suddenly be taken from him. 

The doctor had waited to collect the plate from his lap again but leaving the empty water bottles as they sat on the floor. However, Mathew had noticed a strong look of disgust in the other man's eyes and still wasn't sure if it was for the mess or himself, or most likely both. 

Dispite the uncomfortable position and unpleasant smells, the boy had not dared to say anything. Barely even making eye contact with the other and showing away quickly whenever he did. 

But when Nolan descended the stairs the next time, Mathew could tell something was on his mind. 

The boy needed to clean up. Plain and simple. Nolan also wanted to sanitize his floor and hopefully start to air the dreadful smell out. 

It wasn't originally intended to leave the boy as he was for more than a day, but once he had already soiled himself-he had decided against getting him up. But now he need to begin again what he had stared days ago, but this time he wanted Mathew to know what would happen if he continued to misbehave. The fear in the boy's eyes answered his question without having to say a word.

Still he asked to confirm it and to hear the boy say it himself. 

"Are you uncomfortable yet?" He taunted. Unable to withhold such a chance to be condescending. 

Weakly the form before him nodded and looked purposefully away again. "So now, you know what happens if you cause me any more trouble and grief!?" It wasn't clear if it was a question or demand. It seemed effective either way.

"Yes sir." Mathew agreed. His shoulders shaking now from whatever awaited him now.  
"Say it, are you going to behave yourself Mathew or should I just leave you as you are for another week?" 

The man remembered saying that if the boy chooses to be whipped for his punishment, that it would then be done and over with. However his ego had gotten in the way and the words were broken. Even so, he wouldn't admit this to Mathew. 

"Please....sir..I'll behave..I'll behavvee.." snot dripped from his nose as a childlike cry came out of him. 

Rolling his eyes, Nolan reached to release the boy's hands. Making much effort to not touch him not the floor in concern of coming in contact with the mix of blood, sweat, tears and piss that covered the area. 

Even after the chains were off the small hands shook as though they were vibrating. Grabbing the boy roughly by his shoulder, causing a shriek, Nolan encouraged the boy to attempt to move out of the mess and sit on his knees just outside of where he had been able to reach.

Mathew tried not to focus on what the man was doing. Staying as still as possible until instructed to move, once again to help reduce pain and avoid angering him further.

"Let's continue shall we?" Nolan said as he attempted to pull Matt to his feet. The boy struggling and falling on his own legs which had fallen completely asleep. 

Once stabilized, they began to move again. The act of walking causing motion sickness.

Mathew felt dizzy, his stomach was dark and empty and weighed him down. The Docter had said they would continue, continue What? 

The memory didn't elude him for long as his shaking steps brought him closer to the washroom again. 

He remembered then the cold water, the shivering, his panicked flee to avoid the ice-cold torture.

Maybe it wouldn't be as bad this time. Maybe if he was good the older man would let him wash the blood off his back. 

But Mathew knew the difference, this time when they entered the small room a door was closed and locked quickly behind him and he was left to stand in a corner. 

And the quiet panic set in.

The boy's eyes looked like they were glossed over, the only thing refraining Nolan from assuming he was in shock was the tears that fell from them.

He was disgusting, he needed help to get to the bathroom, and Nolan's hands felt grimy from just holding into the boy's shoulder. 

The older man shook his head and reached to turn on the water. Wanting to get Mathew cleaned off before the boy came in contact with anything else.

But then the boy seemed to grow tense once again, shutting his eyes and seeming to mutter please over and over again. 

Surely a shower would get the boy to feel better and act less irritating. And then the smell would away. 

Yes, Nolan thought. That why I'm doing this.

When he gestured for the boy to move though, the only movement was his shaking kneecaps as he fell to sit on the floor, hands covering his eyes. 

Anger boiled up for a moment, frustrated that the boy still didn't obey the simplest of commands that were in his favor. Clearly Mathew hadn't learned a thing and it pissed him off. 

Turning to the boy he asked: "Why aren't you listening?" And the boy's answer had better be good because there was no way Nolan was letting his house continue to exist in this stench.


	16. A little less cold

"Please....please.." he cried as he heard the angry words. "Please I'm sorry please it hurts please don't hurt me again please I can't take it please.... " 

"Mathew!" Nolan tried. "Mathew!" he tried again. 

After a moment of listening to the boy sobs Nolan checked himself, taking a deep breath and rolling his eyes, remembering that he was dealing with a child. "Matthew, what's wrong?" He asked struggling to keep the irritation from his voice. But the question was calming enough as he finally got an audible answer.

"Please don't put me in the cold water, I don't want too please...." the boy was limo as he sobbed and Nolan took an instinctive step back. 

Mathew thought he was getting sprayed with the cold water again. Nolan reaches his hand out to catch some of the falling water and flicked it at the boy's face. 

"Mathew stop It! It's warm see it's fine, shut up before I change my mind again." He threatened, although with little intention of following through. He had to help wash the boy up, his back needed proper bandaging and the shaky legs had given out just trying to reach the shower.

He wasn't going to freeze himself out for this kid, but it wasn't super hot either-but it was lukewarm and comfortable to have his hands and arms under. 

The noise didn't stop completely or immediately, but Nolan watched as an effort was made and the younger man but his bottom lip and nodded uncontrollably. 

He sighed and allotted the time Mathew seemed to need to pull himself together. This wouldn't be any easier if he was freaking out the whole time, and the smell was getting worse as he cried too. The sweat and tears just adding to a horrible mess. 

"Mathew are you listening?" The man nodded and forced out a sad and defeated "Yes sir," keeping his eyes anywhere but the man's face. 

"These chains probably hurt a whole lot he prided further don't They?" Mathew nodded uncontrollably, rigid breathes hoarsely from his throat. 

"I could take them off for a bit if you want?" He added. "But if I do That Mathew, you have to listen and do everything I tell you. Understand?"

Matt's whole body shook. He would do anything to have some relief from the pain. If all he had to do to have the chains off was do as he was told then so be it. It wasn't as though he had much if a choice anyway. The doctor had made it crystal clear that he could force Mathew to do anything, whether he wanted to or not. He nodded ruthlessly. "Answer me, Mathew, I want verbal answers boy!" 

"Yes sir, please I promise." The words were a mix between a whisper and a shrill cry. The relief of having the weight removed from his broken skin was enough to make him gasp and almost cry in joy. But Mathew held himself back knowing that getting excited would probably be the reason for them to go back on. 

He would do what he was told, the man had wanted him to get in the shower earlier. Had flicked water at him to show him it wasn't freezing. The drops that splashed him had still been cold on his skin, but he could tell it wasn't nearly as harsh as the last time he was brought into the bathroom. 

Cradling his arms towards his chest, Mathew loomed to the older man for further instructions. Once again it was motioned for him to come will fly to the bathtub where the shower was running. 

This time Mathew made to comply and hissed through his teeth as he stepped up over the edge and then again when his knees hit the bottom. 

The doctor washed his hair and looked at his wounds. Surprisingly gentle in comparison to the treatment already left on his skin. 

When the water was turned off he shivered, if not from the cold then from the fear and pain as his captor seemed to mend the damage he had done to his skin. 

Meanwhile Mathew was allowed to just rest, lowered his weight onto himself and breath in the air which now felt lighter. 

When the doctor was satisfied with his work, although Mathew had just opted to ignore the man who had cleaned him up in the shower. He longed for being able to do it himself but also felt to limp to even think about standing for such a prolonged period. Then a large towel was draped across the front of him. Scrambling to gather it in his arms and relish in the comfort, he almost missed his instructions.

"Dry off but don't touch your back. And stay put, I'm cleaning up the mess you made in my house." His voice quieted as he walked away, apparently not worried that Mathew would try to run again. 

They both knew that he wouldn't dare. Not that he could in his current state. But grasping the towel, the only soft and comforting thing he had been in contact with for days, Mathew clutched it and snuggled his face into it. 

It was amazing how much a shower could make things hurt less and him feel better. Maybe it was the simple feeling of being clean or the knowledge that his wounds were at least tended too. 

It was quiet too. Mathew knew Nolan was just outside the doorway and around a corner, but sitting there with his towel and with the chains all taken off, he felt some semblance of privacy. 

It wasn't that he hadn't been left alone, he had been abandoned for days it seemed like. But this was different, the light was on and his muscles all still ached. Not to mention the burn of his injuries. But for a moment things felt calm. 

Mathew wondered if the doctor would let him us onto the towel. Ashamed that such a thing was bringing him so much comfort, by not wanting to lose it all the same. 

The peace of mind evaporated though when Nolan returned with the chain in hand. Reminding Mathew that he was likely getting chained back up in the corner. 

Nolan had a different idea for restraining the boy this time. Satisfied with the idea of cuffing a single ankle to the bolt attached to his floor. 

When he walked to see Mathew again, he had I deed not moved an inch but was cuddling the towel like a toddler would a stuffed animal. 

"Stand up and finish drying off" he instructed calmly, not wanting to deal with any more headaches. He watched as Mathew struggled to stand and fully dry himself off and step out of the tub and onto the bathmat. 

When he reached to collect the towel was when the boy became hesitant.  
"Can I.. can I keep it? Please?" The boy paused "I'll be good, just let me hold onto it please?" 

Dispite the small crack in his voice, it was clear that Mathew was relatively calm. The towel, however, was now wet and would smell on its own soon enough. 

The look in the boy's eyes were pleading though, but Nolan knew it was better to remain indifferent. But he had to admit he saw nothing wrong with giving the boy a comfort item if it meant less trouble for him. 

"One thing at a time." He said patiently ad he pulled the damp thing away and watched as Mathew eyes followed it longingly but submitted to its confiscation. Nolan wasn't so interested in promises of the boy behaving himself as he was of the boy actually doing it.

Even with the disappointment and longing for the towel of all things, Mathew was docile as he was sales back to his corner. Now clean and fitted with a new chain and a topped bucket.

After the boy had sat down without complaint and watched as the cuff was locked around his ankle giving him about a foot's length of leeway for that foot. 

"No more mess, if you need to go do it in the bucket there and keep the lid on it so the smell doesn't rise." 

Mathew eyes the bucket and nodded, pulling his knees into himself and needing to move his body to accommodate the restriction of the chain. 

Nolan left up the stairs then to collect the bag of water and random snacks he had found in his cupboard. Not wanting to cook an actual meal and figuring this was a way to clear out some of the stuff he didn't want.

Nolan surprised himself though when he collected a light blanket from the closet. It was soft and large enough that Mathew could wrap up in it.

He wasn't sure why he wanted to give the boy this comfort, but the way he had been when he had something to cling too interested Nolan. 

The gasp of shock upon his return to the boy made him give a nod before returning upstairs again. Mathew already curled up in warmth.

It wasn't only the water that would be warmer tonight.


	17. Self reflections and deep Infections

For the next couple days Nolan went about as he normally did. Remembering to bring food and water down to his captive and to empty the bucket.

Niether one of them ever speaking a word. Nolan's eyes locked onto the boy like an eagle with his prey and Mathew would retract as far from the older man as the chain would allow. Using the blanket to shield his body from Nolan's sight.

A couple of times, however, Nolan had come down to collect something from his drawers while his prisoner was asleep, seeming to be out cold. The blanket under his head like a pillow and the rest of him curled up for warmth.

The chance for Nolan to observe the quiet breathing and slow rise and fall of Mathews's chest didn't go to waste. Intensity watching the process for longer than he had intended.

It also allowed Nolan to get a good look at the boy's back and chest.

The brand on his chest appeared to still be swollen and red. The skin irritated and raw in some places. The clear, sticky bandage he had applied was to prevent anything getting into it to prevent infection, but meant it would take significantly longer to heal. 

The doctor inside Nolan felt urged to tend to it more immediately. "Do no harm" was the code doctors were taught to live by. But he had already surpassed that. Even so, he could remember burn patients he had seen in the ER. Remembered how loudly they cried out in pain until he could provide them some relief.

Perhaps he would see if the boy said anything, but from his view of the wounded back, he couldn't see much beyond the bloodied bandages. It was likely they were infected too, it had been left for a while without being cleaned or bandaged. Not to mention the first aid looked as if a child had done it, a patch job he would be ashamed to have done at work. 

All through Nolan's inquisiting gaze to his body, Mathew didn't stir. It made the man wonder if the pain wasn't that serious that he was still able to rest, but from the look of pure exhaustion on the boy's face, it was likely that wasn't the case. 

Logically he knew the amount of pain would either keep the boy awake or throw him into unconsciousness, but his curiosity was intrigued as well. 

He would have a look at Mathew's back tomorrow. 

Crying himself to sleep had somehow been comforting to the pain and fear. Any time Mathew went to lie down with the intent to sleep his brain and body wouldn't stop reminding him of his situation. It wasn't clear how long it had been since he and Nolan had spoken to each other, but the man had come down to drop off more water and empty the bucket at least a couple of times. The odds meant that it had been a couple of days, but it felt much longer than that. How long had he been asleep?

Matt had assumed it better to not ask questions or complain, opting to keep himself as far from Nolan as he could. The pain kept him too distracted to be bored. And he knew there wasn't much that would fix his injuries anyway. 

Even so, the total silence was getting to him. Locked away as to be was, he didn't have any human interaction and on occasion would talk aloud to himself to try to focus on something other than the cold. Or the pain. Or the sadness. 

His blanket was getting dirty too, his fever-induced sweat and general grime building up on the fabric, making it less and less appealing to cuddle with. 

"To cuddle with", Mathew laughed slightly. He hadn't been concerned with that "cuddling" in years. Not since he was a younger kid and fell asleep in his father's lap or hugged himself in the warmth of his bed. 

His bed had been old and uncomfortable whenever one of the springs inside the mattress popped. His room was small and dark after the sun went down and the natural light was gone. Matt remembered being scared of it sometimes, sometimes pretending to have seen a mouse or ghost that wasn't there so he could spend the night next to his dad.

What he would give up to see him one time, for his father to tell him he was strong and hug him until he felt safe. 

Mathew would rot away like this willingly if it meant he got that once slice of comfort. 

His thoughts became distracted by the sound of creaking wood. Nolan was returning to give him supplies for the day. 

In preparation he spread the blanket to cover himself, feeling vulnerable in the naked state. 

However the man's movements seemed different today. His hands were empty except for a ring of keys which jingled with Nolan's quick pace.

After realizing what the man was getting Matt finally broke his how of silence.

"What's that for?" Was all his weak voice could do.

There was a cringe at the sound of the boy's voice. Horse and yet also high pitched from disuse. 

The question, of course, was directed at the assortment of medical tools he was gathering in his hand. 

Ignoring the question, Nolan thought about his plans in his head. This would be easier with Mathew sitting on the table and the least keeping still. Nolan was doubtful of the boy's ability, nevermind willingness, to do either of those things. 

Since yesterday he had been trying to decide exactly what he wanted to do. He briefly considered giving Mathew another shower but after last time it was labeled as an as-needed basis, and the boy didn't smell as bad as he had before when he was sitting in his shit. 

Nolan did want to move him out of the corner so be had better light but was wary of releasing the boy's ankle and giving him impulse to run again. 

Seeing it as the easiest and best option, Nolan went and starts setting up the table again for Mathew to lie on it. 

The boy on the floor however asked again "What's that all for? What's going on!?" The attempt to sound authoritative was washed out but fear in the words. Nolan couldn't help the small smirk that came to his face as he ignored Mathew again. Not wanting to validate what was essentially a tantrum. 

A tantrum of which grew anyways. "I've been good! I've followed your rules!" Mathew shouted in anger, rising to stand on unstable legs and lean against the wall for support. 

"I've been quiet! I pissed in the bucket! I did what you told me to do!" He yelled, his voice waking up and becoming stronger. 

Nolan finished his preparations and finally addressed the screaming boy. "Shut up!" Was all it took for Mathew to bite his tongue and simply glare daggers at him. 

With a strong and sudden hold on his shoulders, Nolan pushed the angry face to turn around and handcuffed the boy behind his back. With the two loud clicks of the locking mechanism, the shouts became soft and sad cries.

"I didn't do anything wrong! Please don't put me back up to that thing please!" The words continued in mumbled sounds as Nolan undid the chain around the boy's ankle and found himself moving Mathew to the table with ease, the fight gone out of him either from fear or shock. 

The plan was to treat his wounds under the better light on the table then return his captive to his place on the floor, for the record that he had been behaving himself. But his outburst was giving Nolan second thoughts.

Once he had secured Mathew to the table, face down so he could see the whip marks he came to speak evenly in his ear. 

"Your streak of good behavior broke five minutes ago. But I'll give you once chance to smarten up and if you do maybe I'll let you out again when I'm done." The boy held his breath for a moment and nodded cautiously. 

"Good boy." Nolan praised and turned his attention again.

The three-day-old bandages practically fell off and revealed to Nolan that the wounds had grown infected. One which would no doubt be deadly if left untreated. 

As he used disinfectant on Mathews back, he heard the whimpers on pain which were failed to be held back. Large tears no doubt rolling down his face as the solution stung his skin.

Surprisingly that was the extent to Mathews's cries. Nolan completed disinfecting and bandaging the boys back and stood up straight and took a deep breath. 

The doctor considered looking at the brand on the boy's chest too but settled against it, feeling tired of practicing his profession at the moment. 

In the silence Mathew waited only a couple minutes before speaking up, no doubt hoping to remind the man of his presence and be released from the binds holding him still. 

" Are you...are you done?" The question came with a large gulp in the middle as Mathew struggled to clear his throat. 

"Just one more thing Mathew" Nolan answered honestly and with taunting affection to the boy's name. 

Standing out of Mathews's view, Nolan administered a shot of penicillin into his arm. That infection would only get worse and he would rather not have it come to the point where it could cause death. 

"What was that!?" There was alarm and fear in the question, no cry of pain had occurred-it being mild to what had happened just before it. 

"Nothing to worry about," The doctor told him. Mathew didn't feel comforted as he thought about the identifiable prick of a needle that went into his upper arm. 

Part of his mind was panicking at the prospect of it being poison or drugs to knock him out again, but his wanting to get off and away from the table. Somehow it made him claustrophobic and it pulled hard on his limbs. 

He thought of his cries when Nolan had been putting what he assumed to be rubbing alcohol on his back. Hopefully, they weren't crossing the lines of what he agreed to when the man whispered in his ear. 

As if his mind was being read, Nolan spoke again. "I suppose you behaved yourself well enough." But yet Matt felt no movement to release him from the table that tortured him so badly. 

"If I let you up, what are you going to do?" He asked and Matt went unsure of what his answer was supposed to be.  
"Whaaa...t?" He asked nervously. 

"Are you going to run?" Nolan explained as if it was obvious. 

"No, please I promise..." he was cut off. 

"Are you going to behave yourself?" That question had a hint of anger bleeding through and Mathew questioned what the man was doing. None the less he nodded.

The conversation ended, and all Mathew heard was the click of keys and felt his bonds grow looser. With a sigh of relief, he went to push himself upward only to be stopped by a hand on his neck. 

"No. Don't get up. I want you to stay on the table until I get back. Will you behave yourself or do I have to restrain you again?"

Strange confusion and concern went across Mathews's face. Finally, he relaxes under Nolan's hand again and answered. "I'll be good." It was soft and careful if a tone could ever be so cautious. 

But the trembling didn't stop when Nolan stepped away without a word, retreating up the stairwell and leaving Mathew to force himself to remain where he was in fear of whatever Nolan was bringing back. 

The large crashing sounds of metal and strange grunts from the older man seemed to restrain him better than any chains would. 

Mathew wouldn't open his eyes to look. Whatever it was, he didn't want to know.


	18. How do you define Torture?

It was awkward and heavy to control the large piece of furniture down the wooden steps. The small futon had been taking up space in the storage room and Nolan had intended on moving it out and getting rid of it months ago. But now it seemed he had a reason to keep it, if for nothing else to test Mathew’s compliance as he controlled the slide of the frame downward. If the boy tried to make a run for it or attack the older man while he was occupied and dragged down, then Nolan would know whether the boy's word could be trusted or not. But he had a feeling that the boy wouldn’t do anything he would later regret, even if he did there was little concern for where he could go that wouldn’t be blocked by a locked door.

The old bed frame had another purpose he supposed too, he couldn’t deny the fact that the small squeak of fear in his captive voice or that the wary look in his eyes didn't make Nolan feel powerful. He was in control of the young man he held custody over, and Mathew certainly knew by the way he tensed when Nolan approached him. As he stumbled downwards with a large crash as he let the metal frame fall the rest of the way, using gravity to his advantage. He watched as Mathew’s breathing ceased for an abrupt moment upon the sound and the way he seemed to go frozen. Nolan had known the very act of leaving the basement and returning with something after having ordered Mathew to remain where he was would confuse the boy. He knew it was cruel to purposefully be scaring the eighteen-year-old.

But if the boy could restrain himself to do as he was told then Nolan wouldn’t have any reason to make use of that fear. Maybe after a few days of letting his prisoner stare at the folded up sofa across the room, he would consider moving it over for Mathew to sleep on instead of the floor. In the meantime, it worked well in its job to taunt the boy and gave him his storage room back. 

The horrible scratches on metal on the concrete floor made Mathew’s whole body cringe. What could the man be pulling down that would make such harsh sounds, he didn’t know for sure but his imagination was quick to jump in with all kinds of horrific ideas. He ran through all the possible torture devices the man could have managed to get his hands on, or ancient medical equipment he might have found. 

How badly he wished he could just get off this fucking table. Every moment he spent laying vulnerable on his stomach with his injured back unprotected felt like receiving the whip all over again. Waiting for the pain to come without any indication when it would strike, thinking of all the horrible things that the doctor might do to him and simply staying still until something happened made his head pound and his heartbeat so hard it was hammering in his chest. Hadn’t Nolan said that he could get off if he were good? He had undone the restraints only to push him downwards again to wait as the next painful punishment was set up. 

Tears welled up his eyes as his breath stuttered and a subtle quiet crept over the room, the only sign that he was being watched the sounds of the older man moving things around outside of Mathew’s view. He wiped his tears away with his hand and slowly moved the other rest his head on his arm, hoping that it would go unnoticed. His brain felt like it was buzzing and finding static like an old TV and self-control slipping the longer he stayed in his position. Mathew hadn’t even realized how loudly he had begun to cry.

Nolan waited patiently, sitting on the thin mattress that acted as the couch cushions on top of the creaky metal frame. He took interest in listening to the words that came from Mathew, at least the ones he could catch from all the blubbering and incoherent sounds of sadness. Most of what was audible was begs, a mantra of please being repeated over and over again. This was eventually tuned out as Nolan busied his thoughts with the boy in front of him. He would let the boy cry himself out some more before allowing him to get up and return to his corner to stare at the futon sitting ten feet away from him. But then Mathew says something that catches his attention. 

The boy on the metal table had switched from repeating “please” over and over, to calling out for someone.

“Dad.”

And Nolan couldn't control his anger anymore.


	19. Self-defense or self-destruction?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Violence and heavy guilt/psychological torment in this chapter proceed with caution.
> 
> Also hope everyone is coping through this difficult and dramatic time, it has certainly affected me and I implore you to take care of yourself and the ones you love. 
> 
> Another chapter coming soon, sorry for the inconsistency-I'm hoping to catch up on it within the next couple weeks. 
> 
> Once again, stay safe,  
>  ~Geekglassesgirl

"Dad..."

The harsh grip on his shoulder came from nowhere as he was pulled upwards the action awkward as his body move at someone else's control. The resounding whack seemed to echo inside Mathew's brain as a fist came into contact with the left side of his jaw. The pain came in a flashing light a moment after and then shouting began to register in his ears. Air struggled to pass his throat as he felt it grow tight and constricted with panic, he had been begging for mercy, for compassion, for anything, but instead of gaining sympathy it seemed Nolan was just angry. The words seemed messy in his head as he tried to decipher them, his own sobs of pain drowning them out.

"You lying son of a bitch! It's your fault! You hear me! How fucking dare you hurt her, she was just a little girl!" I'll kill you for what you did to her! You hear me! You deserve this you homeless piece of shit!" The words are loud and spoken with dangerous intent, but they almost don't mean anything to his brain. Pulled forcibly off of the table and thrown onto the hard concrete floor, a frightened squeal came from Matt as he rolled with the momentum, his shoulder ineffectively cushioning his fall.   
"Screaming like it could help you huh? No one would help you you filth, she screamed like that too didn't she? But did anyone come to help her? No! You took my daughter from me and now your scared to deal with the consequences! I'll kill you boy for what you've done if its the last thing I do!"

The kicking ensued, the pain caused dots in his vision as he coiled into the fetal position and tried to guard his face with one arm. This man was going to kill him and he couldn't do anything about it, the background drowned out as throbs of pain went through his body and his nose bled after an angry foot managed to find his face. 

Mathew didn't know when he started crying or pleading or shouting, but all he knew was that at some point his survival instincts kicked in. "I didn't! Why won't you fucking believe me you bastard! Shut up, I tried to help her, but you don't care about you just want to take it out on someone because you can't handle it! Can't handle the fact that you weren't good enough for your daughter to keep living!"

Those words made the kicking stop. 

Nolan froze, his heart was beating furiously and sweat dripping off of him. The world went blank for a moment as he recollected all of the memories of his child. His precious baby girl, his princess. "Dad" she had said, so many times, her first words competed between mommy and daddy, how she looked at him nervously when she had to admit a mistake or tell him something he didn't want to hear. How she looked at him in disbelief the day her mother died, each time beginning with that one word. Dad. All the times she came crying to him after school when the boy she liked broke her heart, or when the girls called her ugly. That word was sacred to Nolan, deserving of only one person, and she was gone. She was gone because of the boy shaking at his feet, blood coming from his nose and pants of breath between the curses he spat out. 

No, Nolan wouldn't tolerate this. He wouldn't tolerate the boy accusing him of being the reason his daughter was gone from his life, saying that he wasn't good enough. He wouldn't allow for this boy to spew such lies about him and his daughter. 

The trance Nolan had fallen in was broken only by the words of the young man at his feet. "It's your fault, not mine you bastard! It isn't my damned fault!"

The words had started angry but quickly turned into sadness and despair. Mathew saw the doctor look at him with indignation in his eyes, and Mathew realized what he had just said to the man whose mercy he was at. What he had just done and how much worse he made the situation for himself. The bruises already aching everywhere on his body and his throat blocked with fear, his eyes still furious with the man who looked back at him. Mathew shuddered, adrenalin in his system making him blind in rage, but as the high went down-the fear and terror returned as he saw the man above him stare at him without blinking and grabbed him.


	20. Do not bite the hand that feeds you

Nolan's eyes felt blurry with tears and heat had long been in his cheeks as his chest heaved in anger. Mathew attempted to pull his foot free of his grip, kicking and jerking his limbs trying to find leverage against the older man. But all it took was a single harsh tug for Nolan to move the boy from his position on the concrete floor to the corner of the room again. 

Matt battled emotions of fear and anger. Anger at this man for torturing him like this, for not even fucking listening to him, for not giving a shit about anyone but himself. But the anger was kept held back by the uncontrollable fear and terror that bubbled in his chest. Thinking of the words he wanted to throw in the doctors face, try to regain some power here. Wanting to hurt the other man for what he was doing to him, but giving in to his anger would only dig him deeper, so he held his mouth shut. But it was too late, he had already yelled at the older man, the words forming before his thoughts could stop them. He knew he had only made it worse for himself as he felt the rough concrete against his bare skin and the tightening grip on his leg. Hearing the clicks of the chain, Mathew couldn't help but let the anger out once again. "Yes chain me up, again! That'll make you feel better, won't it? Taking it out on someone else!" The words fell from Mathew's mouth without thought until the feelings of regret overwhelmed him as Nolan pushed him flat against the floor, the chain gripped in his hand, knuckles white from the strain. Not looping it around his ankle like before.

Once the chain was within Nolan's reach he dropped the boy's leg and snatched his upper arm, maneuvering both of them to allow what Nolan was about to do. The boy was a criminal and disgusting, he destroyed his daughter and didn't even care enough about his actions, the consequences, the hurt he put others through. Blaming Nolan and accusing him of cowardness when Mathew himself couldn't take responsibility for his actions. 

The chain felt empowering in his hand, it was his way of regaining control of the situation after the child had practically shocked him into silence with his words. He had chained Mathew's ankle before so that he knew the boy was restrained, while graciously giving him the ability to have a range of movement. He had to keep the piece of shit alive, but he was going to make sure that he regretted every day of his life from now on. Nolan had shown kindness, had considered allowing Mathew to rest more comfortably.

Clearly Mathew needed to see how cruel he could actually be, that his small gifts were not to be taken advantage of. So in midst of the burning anger, Nolan swung the length of the chain around the boy's neck, not stopping until it was in the middle of the length. Straining the chain so that it wouldn't be loose, Nolan waited to listen to Mathew's struggled breathing as he panicked in an attempt to get air. 

He let the boy's eyes go blank and roll into his head before releasing his grip, moving the chain again so that it was short before clicking a padlock into place right in front of the boy's throat. This time not tightened enough to strangle the boy, but with less than a foot of chain connecting Mathew's new collar to the floor. A final kick to the boy's side to watch as his body rolled away after the kick, only to be caught by the restraint on his neck before Nolan took a step back with unadulterated hatred and evil satisfaction in his face. The boy was no better than a filthy creature, and Nolan would make sure he knew it before he was kind enough to give Mathew any luxuries again.

Nolan only noticed now how deeply he was breathing, felt the tension in his neck and shoulders as he looked at the naked boy on the floor. He would make Mathew regret ever word he ever spoke, but first, the doctor needed a drink. Returning upstairs to search his cabinets, Nolan made sure to turn all the lights off and leaving Mathew in total darkness. The boy could learn to not take kindness for granted.


	21. Some Things just hurt too Badly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Referenced rape/suicide in this chapter, nothing too graphic I swear. Just indirect mention of blood and some serious guilt/shame expressed.

Mathew had thought he was going to die.

He begged for death as the hard metal suddenly gripped his throat, making him gag. 

If he died he wouldn't have to face the guaranteed torture still to come, but instead, Matt awoke once again to his head cloudly with pain and an ache deep in his muscles. He needed to relieve the pressure off his forehead, the blood pumping to it made an audible "thump" in his ears. Mathew went to roll onto his side, but after positioning his body slowly to ease the transition, his attempt to face the other direction was confronted with a harsh grind on the soft part of his throat and a feeling of whiplash as he was forced to swing his head back again to keep the strain from choking him. His mind too fuzzy to even process whatever was holding his head in place, the pounding of his heart in his ears acted as a motive to fall under the protection of unconsciousness once again.

Nolan had downed several beers and was now standing across from his daughter's bedroom door. His dead daughter's bedroom door. Maybe it was the lateness of the hour or the large amount of alcohol he had consumed that still prodded him to knock as the girl had so many times instructed him to after he entered unannounced. His hand was already on the doorknob and the door pushed a few inches open as he remembered and he knocked delicately on the wooden barrier between him and the bedroom that he hadn't entered in months. He had last been in there when he found his daughter's body, her small form prone on the carpeted ground, which was surely still stained. He hadn't returned to the room, his memory of the last time he saw it ingrained into him never to be forgotten. 

It had been the day after they had fought, fought over the trial. Nolan wanted justice for his daughter, but the child had only wanted to find a way to move past it and forget the event ever happened. She didn't understand Nolan had told her, tried to explain that this boy was a criminal and deserved to be punished for his actions. She had cried and said that reliving the trauma each day was unbearable and shouted that the man never understood as she sought privacy and comfort in her room. No, Nolan didn't understand. He didn't understand like Eloise-Ann's mother use too, how the woman always knew what to do to make the situation better. He couldn't talk to his daughter the same way she could, and Nolan wished so badly to know what to do. But it was late and he had to be at the hospital early the next morning, so after a moment of thought, he stood outside the bedroom door and began to turn the doorknob and caught himself hastily, slightly tapping his knuckles on the wood before waiting for a reply. 

When permission to enter the room was greeted with silence, he took a breath before speaking, "I'm sorry we fought baby and if it really means that much...if it really hurts too badly, we don't have to push through with the trial. We can do whatever makes you comfortable, okay? Anyways I goodnight okay, and I'll see you tomorrow when I get home from work. I love you." And he had closed the door again.

He had returned the next day with her favorite take out, hoping to talk it out over dinner. But when Ellie was silent even after the announcement of food, so once again he knocked on the closed door. This time however his patience grew thin, unappreciative of being ignored and he had finally walked into the bedroom. 

It had been hours that she was there, supposedly since the night before. Nolan cursed himself for not entering the room fully the twenty-four hours ago, knew that if he had, he might have been able to fix things. Make things better, save his daughter before it was too late. But he hadn't, he had hidden cowardly behind the door and refused to enter the room without verbal permission. 

So Nolan leaned on the doorway just like he had so many nights ago, he opened the door slightly, before catching himself and knocking lightly. But no response was given, so Nolan closed the door-how could he ever enter her bedroom again now that she wasn't there to answer him?

He had continued with the trial after that, he needed to do something for his baby girl, needed to make it up to her somehow. But captive he held down in the basement had said something that might have been true, he blamed himself for Ellie's death. Nolan comforted himself that it wasn't him, it was the violation and humiliation of his daughter that pushed her to that end. It was the boy downstairs that had made something inside her change, taken his happy little girl and made her into an unhappy soul. 

Yes, it had to be the boy's fault.


	22. A fever's breaking point

Everything was so dizzy that opening his eyes was enough to make the pain in his head spike. So Matt kept his eyes closed and his head down, trying to cool down the heat by pressing his head against the floor. He knew he was on the floor, but everything else seemed to haze together, he couldn't even take a deep breath without the nauseousness riling up inside his stomach and threatening to rise through his throat. His throat, which ached and pained during the very act of existing, but Mathew didn't know what pain came from where anymore. Every muscles was tense and stressed and yet Mathew doubted he could even manage to hold his head up without passing out from exhaustion. Without even opening his eyes he did a scan of his body, his head pounding and burning against the stone floor and feeling too weak to even gain consciousness. But he needed to know that nothing was broken, or worse...missing...would the doctor go as far to remove his limbs...the thought couldn't stay long enough in his mind to fully formulate. It hurt to even think but even so he did a scan through himself. He felt the familiar ache of blue and purple bruises from his shins to shoulder blades, the itching of his back as the wounds healed over and the stretch of his burnt skin on his chest. Mathew noted that moving his neck hurt. A lot. Even shifting to rotate his forehead on the cool floor made it scream, but Mathew cringed and silently thanked the universe that at least nothing felt broken. "But how is this better?" he briefly wondered. The thought the final straw that broke his ability to be awake any longer as he fell into darkness again. 

The next time Mathew was able to raise his eyelids, it still seemed to take hours before he even found enough strength to sense his surroundings, opening his eyes gave no help in anything being visible. It was pitch black, maybe he had gone blind, and the only smell was the sour stench of sweat and the taste of blood in his mouth. It felt like he was trying to make a sound come from his mouth, but he couldn't register if what he was hearing from coming from his pitiful cries or were just imagined horrors in his head that shouted in his ears. Every muscle weak from exhaustion and strain, he tried to calm his pounding head once again but made no progress. He couldn't fall asleep now, couldn't escape to the state of unconsciousness again-but there was no part of him that felt awake. Maybe he was dying, maybe...maybe he would see his dad again, maybe his misery was ending and he could escape this torture. The freezing water and smoldering hot branding iron to the claustrophobic table in the middle of the room. Maybe his dad would come help him, maybe this was all over....Then a blinding light broke out above his face, shielding his eyes Mathew waited for an ease in the pain, he really didn't want to die, but at the moment there didn't seem to be any reason to live. So as the light seemed to be shadowed as a figure approached, Mathew let himself hope it might all be over.

But instead of relief from his high fever and trembling hands, the only sensation that was recognizable was the feeling of a finger on his neck and a prick in the side of his arm. Then he couldn't help but fall into darkness again, now unable to feel anything at all as it all went numb.

Nolan hadn't gone to bed, not before he started to see the sun rising again at least. He had dropped himself clumsily onto the bed, still in his high-end clothing, but the once softness of fine fabrics now felt grimy on his skin. But he couldn't make any effort to take them off, instead, he listened to the song of whimpers reach his ears through the old walls of the house. The distress in the moans came from a place of hurt, but to Nolan, they sounded like nothing but pure terror and resignation from his prisoner in the basement. "Yes," he thought, "hurt like you hurt my daughter, scream and beg for help and see how it feels to wait as no one rushes to help." 

The melody played for hours as he felt the effects of the alcohol, having finished off a bottle of whiskey himself. But as the sun started to appear through the curtains, Nolan realized his lack of sleep. But even after blocking the light from the windows and trying to rest in his bed, the once sing-song tune of Mathew's pathetic wails only started to irritate him. He should have gagged the foul creature, or muzzled him like the animal he was. But those options felt far too effortful than what Nolan was willing to expend right now, so sleep deprived and tipsy from his drinks, the doctor found his way to the captives cage that was his basement level and found something to shut the boy up. Giving the boy a shot that would have been frowned upon in the medical community, shaky and lacking fine control, the idiot seemed to effectively stop the sound that had been ringing in Nolan's ear.

Maybe it was time he finally went to bed, but something else seemed off about the body lying at his feet. It was the doctor's intuition that pushed him to rest a hand on the eighteen-year old's forehead and then dismaying to realize that he felt a body temperature well above what was safe and cursed himself as he gave the boy a second shot to calm the fever down-he hadn't gone this far to let the brat die. He wanted him to suffer. So Nolan made sure he would live, but refused to have anymore compassion than that.

Nolan retired once and for all to bed, the boy wouldn't die with what he had given him but it wouldn't stop the pain either. But maybe if Mathew learned some gratitude and begged for forgiveness, Nolan may tend to any other pressing matters. But not until after he got some sleep, even if it only further ruined his clothes.


	23. Disregarded

He wasn't dead. Why, why wasn't he dead? The throbbing in his head had gone down and Mathew was able to have a full train of thought. Maybe this was even worse torture, if he had died then he wouldn't be spending this time replaying the events in his mind. How the man stood above him and stare for stunned silence before hauling him towards the chain, the loud clings of each link fading out as the metal came around his throat. Cut off any oxygen from getting to his lungs and seemingly broke his body as he fell weak and limp on the floor before blacking out.

He couldn't turn his head from where it was crudely chained to the floor, the improvised collar tight around his neck and barely gave him enough space to fit his hand under his head. The angle to position himself more comfortably impossible and the tight feeling of something enclosing on his throat caused bouts of panic whenever he jerked against it too fast. With a shuddering breath, Mathew gave up, letting himself remain face first on the ground as his lungs pumped for air through the tight chain and his pounding heart. As his heart pounded harder...his lungs tried to work harder only causing his throat to try to expand to allow for deeper breaths. As it became more and more difficult to breathe the fear grew in Matt's mind. He knew he needed to calm down. That he wasn't suffocating for any reason other than his own panic. But the reasonable part of him was dismissed as he breathes turned into wet sobs. Each intake of breath a wailing sound as the body on the floor rocked its hips back and forth trying to soothe itself with a rhythmic motion. The ineffectiveness hitting the palm of his hand to the floor to let out any amount of this energy and emotion in his body. All Matt could do was scream to himself as he felt his legs ready to kick and run and fight for his life, but being too weak in the knees to have been able too-even if he wasn't chained to the floor like a damned animal. No, he was less than an animal here, no one would do this to their pet, but Matt wasn't a pet. He was a prisoner. He didn't do anything wrong, he tried to say that, tried but no one cared enough to listen to the homeless kid in the park. So he was given to a vengeful man to use as his punching bag, as his lab rat, his...his...Mathew was nothing to this man. 

So the sobs carried on for what felt like forever before his brain forced his body to relax, to slow down. Even then, the only sounds that echoed in the basement were Mathew's pleads for his dad. He's begging for mercy to the empty room and darkness that Nolan had left him in. His stomach growled in hunger and his throat finally worn out from screaming, Mathew soon stopped his whines and just lid there in the quiet. Maybe Nolan would forget about him down here and he wouldn't have to see the evil man's face again. Maybe he wouldn't be forced to face whatever the man planned to do to him next. Maybe, maybe, maybe... and maybe went on until Mathew couldn't tell how long it had been. He had pissed himself long ago, it now dried and stuck to his skin and now had nothing more in his body to spare. Dehydration made his stomach ache and the hunger attacked him from the inside. But Mathew couldn't do anything, he was far too weak to even care. Because, maybe...maybe...maybe...

Maybe Nolan should have made sure to bring water to his bedroom before sleeping, he had risen from the bed dizzy and remembering his collage day hangovers. Except he wasn't as young as he once was and his body seemed to less equipped to handle the aftermath of his night of drinking. The sun was high when he woke up, begrudgingly getting some water and taking a couple of pills to ease his migraine. Then closing the curtains with too much force that one rips from the stitches at the top. Even so, Nolan didn't do anything more than pull the blanket over his head.

He hadn't left the bed for three days after Ellie's funeral. So now as the alcohol left his system and the memories of the night returned and the pain and anger at the rapist he had in his basement-he stayed in bed again. The next day he didn't get up early for his walk or his breakfast or to check his emails. He ordered a pizza once his hunger came back the second night after having emptied a large bottle, and for that time he didn't care to think about the boy below him. His occasional wail drowned out through the hazy thoughts of Nolan's own mind.

The next morning Nolan once again slept in, awaken only by the ringing of his phone which was about him faxing some papers. He was on leave from the hospital but was still providing overviews or certain treatments and giving consults over the phone when he could. So he was forced to enter his home office and sort through his emails and relished in the sense of productivity. He got involved in his work to distract him from the things still lurking in his mind, his daughter, and the filthy creature that took her from him. But as he went through his emails he grew curious of the silence, both intrigued and irritated by the prospect the boy could have died. How long could Nolan leave him until he wouldn't have to decide what to do with Mathew at all? But that wasn't what the doctor wanted, plus he knew he had to keep the creature alive. 

Maybe Nolan had to pay his prisoner a visit.


	24. What does mercy mean?

The pain and ache caused by breathing eventually subsided and Mathew felt his heart rate lower and relax as he remains still on the floor. His eyes were open slightly but still saw nothing in the darkness and his limbs were far too heavy to dare to move. He had sobbed and cried himself hoarse long ago, the fear and pain in his mind were pressed into the back of his thoughts as he focused on taking one breath at a time and trying to remain relaxed. Each time he let his mind wonder again to his situation and acknowledged the pain in his body, it seized him in stress and panic. Both of which required too much energy to even consider so he worked to keep himself still and quiet, hoping to fall into sleep again soon. The only thing he could bear to do was lay on the ground and wait for some kind of mercy to come. Begging that either death or sleep would save him soon. However, the restful state he had forced himself into was harshly disrupted as several bright lights flicked on all at once, blinding his sight as his eyes squeezed shut in reaction to the sting and the cringe in his jaw caused the tension to surface around him again. Then the faint sound of oncoming footsteps reached Mathew and he became stock still again, but this time it wasn't to ease the tension in his body-it was panic that froze him stiffly on the ground. 

Nolan was coming. That wasn't mercy at all.

Nolan had waited another couple hours before venturing down into his basement, reluctant to face once again this sad excuse of a man who had seemingly destroyed and taken away the last of his life's joy. His anger was settled, and now all he was reminded of was that tearing sadness that he felt whenever he thought of Ellie. Angry at how Mathew had accused him of being the real reason for his daughter's death, but far more saddened by the fact that it had hit a nerve. The contemplation of his own inadequacy for his child still haunting him the same as it did months ago. But that was just the bastard refusing to feel any remorse or guilt for what he had done. For taking away the blame that was so rightfully his, and forcing it back on Nolan, as if he hadn't already caused him enough grief.

But the legal papers stated it so, Nolan had custody of the eighteen-year-old and was allowed to subject him to whatever was required to keep the beast in line, but nothing he could do could cause fatality before the two years passed. So as Nolan forced himself to stand up straight and walk heavily on his feet, wanting to be intimidating he turned on all the lights in his basement from the upstairs controls and made his way to view his prisoner. The sight, however, disrupted his resolve, and Nolan nearly folded in on himself then and there from the flooding of conflicting emotions of anger and hatred to guilt and fear at what might mean the loss of his humanity.

The sight of Mathew practically half-dead on the floor, the chain around his neck having chafed his skin raw and the assorted bruises were seen easily on the boy's skin as they swelled in the deep blue and purple colors. The room felt musky in the smell of desperation and urine and nearly made the grown man throw up, but instead, Nolan managed to maintain his stance and height over the boy, refusing to let his running thoughts show. 

"He deserves it." Nolan told himself, comforting himself in that this was only fair to those who did things as horrific as the boy had done to his daughter. Reminded of all the things the evil that was contained in the body in front of him comforted and pushed back that gnawing guilt. He was a doctor and he helped people, he healed people and he made people better. But he shouldn't feel bad for doing the opposite too this monster, this monster wasn't a person and didn't deserve to be helped. Everything Nolan was about to do was to keep the thing alive, like his faint memory of breaking the boy's fever a couple of days ago. He wanted to let Mathew suffer, and it would only be unjust to let him find peace in death. No, the doctor would continue to keep the boy alive-as much as it disgusted him to look at the thing now as it was tense on the floor in front of him and covered in its own blood and filth, causing his whole basement to smell.

Swallowing the vile taste in his mouth and once again reminding himself to not have sympathy for his captive, Nolan filled a bucket of water in the tub. 

The lights remained on and his eyes hurt even through the shielding tactics of burying his head in his arm. But Matt could sense the man standing over him, his silence terrifying as the doctor stood right above him, no doubt considering finishing him off with a few good kicks. But Mathew didn't think he could take any more pain right now, he just wanted….he just wanted some kind of relief. If only for a minute before the man took to torturing him again. "Please...Please..." the words cried in his head as silent tears dripped down his face, pathetic as dehydration makes each drop of salty water take forever to form in his eyes.

As Nolan seemingly wondered away, and a fast sound of rushing water haunted Mathew as his memories of the nearby bathroom returned, shivers raced through his body preparing itself for whatever was coming.

Maybe it was the burning need for water or the cold temperature on the floor in the basement that had become Mathew's home, but the water that was tossed over him in a large dump and prickles of pressure as it hit his injured skin-but the water almost felt....warm.


	25. A God Complex

Nolan watched and listened as the gasping breaths began, the boy on the floor shaking slightly with each intake of breath as he exhaled as pained "haaah" each time. The water pooled on the floor and Mathew's now wet skin tight and constricted as knees were drawn further up to his chest and the shaky breathing continued. Nolan had turned the bathtub tap on to run, subconsciously checking the temperature before placing the mop bucket underneath the faucet, when he realized he had done so he questioned himself for a moment, why should he care if the water was warm or not? It wasn't to make Mathew feel more comfortable by washing away the sweat and grime but to ease to fowl smell surrounding him so Nolan didn't require a nose plug just to look at the creature pathetically on the floor. 

As the water spilled on the floor and the breathing eased again, Nolan stared straight down at the man's eyes, the others were avoidantly looking to the floor in front of them as Nolan walked around Mathew to assess how much clean up would be required, and what to do with the monster at his feet. The longer his eyes washed over the body that was more black and blue than natural skin color, Nolan yet again had to fight against his doctorly instincts. Distracting himself with retrieving the mop, he filled the bucket again and did a quick clean at the worst parts of the mess before dumping it back into the tub to drain away. 

The silence froze the air around him as Mathew refused to move or make eye contact with the man above him, terrified of what emotion he might see in his face and praying that any more pain could be avoided, the man wasn't going to let him die it seemed. Despite his longing for comfort from this hell, the fact settled Matt's racing thoughts as he realized that he wasn't dying from dehydration on the floor. He didn't really want to die, but the idea of existing like this forever sent a squeeze through his spin. But the fact that the older man had returned to clean up the soiled mess on the floor made Matt wonder if his death wasn't as imminent as he thought. 

But as the doctor stood over him and mopped up some of the water he had splashed onto the floor, Mathew thanked the universe that the water had been decently warming to his skin and somehow eased the pain in his muscles. It was a short-lasting reprieve however when a strong hand grip the hair at the back of his neck and force his head to rise up as much as the chain allowed. 

Panic seized through Matt as he went to pull himself away from his hand, to kick at Nolan's knees, or hit him across the face while looking in the wrong direction. To do anything that would release the pulling grip at the base of his neck and relieve the strain felt in his neck muscles as they forced themselves to hold up his head and fight against the pull of the leash holding him down. But as the moment slowed and the seconds lasted hours, Matt quickly realized he was vulnerable to whatever he was about to endure as the flash of a headache and weakness overcame him and he found his head being held off the floor only by the hand gripping it. 

Was the man about to force Mathew back into unconsciousness by strangling him again, did he intend on pulling out each thread of hair as the boy's head ached with the feelings of small snaps at his scalp. Tears beckoned themselves to his eyes but became nothing more than moisture over his eyelashes as a shaky breath caused a wheezing and winning sound from Mathews's throat, the cry seeming to come from a small animal. 

"What could you possibly want to do to me now?" Mathew thought, "please, oh please just let the torture be over! Unchain me, let me go, please!" However, the words only haunted the empty space that occupied his mind. Because no, of course that wouldn't happen, this man hated him, blamed him for something he didn't do and there was no way for Mathew to prove or convince him otherwise. So whatever was about to happen was unavoidable, his head sitting heavily in the other man's hand as Matt waited for blinding pain. 

Nolan held the boys head in his head, the weight of it completely placed on him as strange sobs escaped from the bruised and weak mess of a person. It was an empowering feeling, having someone's life in his hands, he had felt it many times before, usually in the middle of a surgery or operation that would effectively save the patient's life once he was done. He had grown used to the feeling, took perhaps too much pride in it as he knew it was the "god-complex" many people claimed all doctors to have. But with the rapist in his grip and power laid upon him, Nolan couldn't help but feel the confident smirk forming on his face, this was different than being in a hospital room with medical tools and technology. This was bare and rough as two glazed over eyes held fear and the next decision Nolan made could effectively determine the life he held in his hands. 

So, with thoughtless effort, precision only a natural thing after his many years in the field, Nolan lifted the water bottle to the boy's lips. After feeling a jolt of the body in front of him, Nolan saw the swallowing of the liquid in Mathew's throat. He saw the first flash of light returning to the body in front of him.


	26. Monsters and God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know it's been over a month, but here is another chapter to get me in the groove again! Hope everyone is taking care of themselves, stay safe!

Water was like heaven on his lips as it swarmed into his throat, and Mathew almost cried in joy as his thirst was relieved. A part of his chest felt like it was able to breathe again and did so in large but soft inhales as the water bottle emptied and was moved away from him. Lost in a daze of delirium, the sound of the chain woke Mathew as he realized the doctor was moving the chain, "oh please, please don't make it any tighter, he wouldn't be able to do it if the constricting metal forced itself into his windpipe, he wouldn't be able to breathe or to hold on any longer if he did" the voice begged in his head as a wrecked sob escaped and Matt realized that the man standing above, the one with all the power and authority to make his life the living hell it was was only going to make it worse. He had given him a drink so to be sure he would survive the next wave of pain. So as the chimes of metal echoed in his ears, Mathew let his whole body shudder, forgetting to try to seem strong in front of his captor anymore. This man would torture him to death slowly, and the very thought of it terrified him.

So Mathew didn't know if his shaking was of pain or sadness or despair as the man dropped the length of the chain again, the heavy footsteps creaking up the stairs before Mathew dared to look up again. He hadn't felt the restriction around his throat tighten, but maybe he had been too distracted, maybe he had ignored it hoping that if he didn't pay attention to it then it wouldn't happen. As much as he wasn't prepared to look, he forced his eyes open and away from the floor to where his chain met the floor, waiting for the movement to be yanked violently once he reached its limit. But surprisingly, it didn't. 

Matt didn't feel a harsh tug against his throat or like he was pulling against a weight, instead he found he could sit upright. His shoulders rolled out some of their stiffness and his lungs expanded now that they had the room, but his eyes focused on one thing. The chain that had been lengthened from a few inches to a few feet. Mathew had been begging for a mercy, and what a small one this was. But somehow being able to pull his knees up to his chest and weep in them once again felt like a little bit of freedom. However small, it was something. However, the relief was short-lived as his mind quickly asked itself, "Why?"

Nolan didn't quite know why. He didn't know why he had returned to the boy to clean up after days of letting him sit in his own filth, he didn't know why he had made the effort to put water into him, and he didn't know why he had felt inclined to release Mathew from his sentence of being forced to remain on the floor.   
It was just too keep him alive, Nolan was doing it out of necessity and nothing more. 

Surely it wasn't because when he walked into his own basement, he saw the man who raped his daughter lying half-dead on the floor. It wasn't because he felt any guilt or remorse as he watched the water he doused over Mathew, visibly relax some of the joints and muscles that were wound so tight it looked like they might explode. It wasn't that for a moment after he pulled the empty bottle of water away from the kid's mouth, that he heard a whimper of desperation and the cries that had seemed to go silent some time ago, cautiously return again. No, Nolan knew it couldn't have been any of that. The homeless criminal had destroyed his life, had hurt his little girl to the point that she broke, had thrown his daughter's death in his face like it was his own fault, had called him a monster. 

But yet when Nolan had grasped the chain in his hand and had looked to the creature it restrained cowering away from him, and when he started to hear the words that seemed so faint he could have imagined them, but the words struck him. And for a moment he couldn't help but feel like the monster the boy had said he was. He heard the words and remembered when he lost his daughter, his everything, as he forced out those same words to the gods-begging for them to take away the pain. Nolan realized that Mathew was begging for the same thing, only this time the gods that were being begged too were not the ones Nolan had prayed too, this time, those words were begging him. 

As Nolan quickly returned to his own room he questioned himself and what he had become to the boy chained up in his basement, had he become his god? Or his monster? Mathew's pained words as he had shaken at his feet gave him an answer.

"Please, please please please please-eeeeessss-ahhhhh-hah!" 

But Nolan didn't like the answer. He wasn't so sure anymore that he liked either of them.


	27. The man upstairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a while, and this chapter is kinda just me trying to get back into the groove. So sorry if it's not as you expected. But it has been a whole year since I published the first chapter! 
> 
> Everyone stay safe!

Nolan had struggled to fall asleep as his thoughts on his prisoner haunted him-the boy had become so fragile and skinny. He had survived a major infection thanks to the penicillin Nolan had given him, but he was still covered in the bruises and still healing skin where the numbers were branded into his skin. But it was ridiculous, it was his job to make sure that Mathew was punished, that he suffered, that justice was served. Nolan grew frustrated that he was questioning any of this, just because of the pleas he heard from the chained criminal downstairs. He didn't deserve any pity, and Nolan knew that-so he tossed in his bed once more and made another attempt to close his eyes. 

Mathew felt the scruff on his chin brush against his knees and he cried into them, running out of tears. He was so tired, there was a difference between sleeping and unconsciousness, and he had only ever been the former in what felt like months. The last few days-if that was even how long it had been he had been forced to lay on the cold floor covered in dirt and his own piss. So despite his exhaustion, he was determined to not lie down, he had been stuck far too close to the floor so long that the idea of voluntarily doing so was horrifying. Instead, he stayed awake for the next several long hours, keeping awake by exploring his injuries and longing for more water, for a chance to have a warm shower, and to sleep in a bed one more time.

But none of that was likely to happen, Nolan would keep him here like this for the rest of his life and there was nothing Mathew could do about it. He could never escape, and even if a miracle happened then he would still be without anywhere to go to, plus the brand on his chest would forever mark him as a convicted criminal. No, there was no hope for him, his life was as good as over as he sat in the dark. Locked away and in pain, Mathew would never see daylight again because of the man upstairs. 

The man upstairs stood in the kitchen, staring blankly at the eggs he was scrambling in a frying pan. The prisoner was still intruding on his thoughts and Nolan wished desperately that the guilt that seemed to have claimed him to go away. Especially since there was nothing for him to feel bad about the guilt ate at him, unable to shake off the unsettled feeling. It wasn’t until after Nolan finished his breakfast that he noticed the bananas on the counter-the ones that were brown and had ripened far too long. He was on his way to the garbage when he saw the door to the basement and the angry feeling inside of him swelled. Nolan knew that he had to do something because somehow something just felt wrong. Of course, it wasn’t him, the boy below him was a criminal-but the pleading from the day before rang in his ears and all he could think of was the hospital.

There would be people there with their parents or children or friend, begging anyone who would listen to help the person they cared about. Victims of violence or suffering from heart attacks begged him to do something. To be the one to save them from pain and heartache. The words he knew well as he remembered speaking them himself the day he lost his wife as she died in the hospital after chemo had failed. He had begged the heavens to do something to ease his pain. He repeated them when he lost Ellie, shouted, and cursed at the man upstairs within them. 

The words themselves hurt to say, hurt to hear over and over again, and so to make them leave him alone he knew he would have to do something.

The man upstairs had no mercy.


End file.
